A Warden's Dream
by black-rose495
Summary: Eleanor and Alistair are happily married, but something is missing and Eleanor will do anything to get it. Set after Noble Blood, though you don't need to read it for this to make sense NSFW
1. Chapter 1

"He's eliminated another one of their bases," she said excitedly. "That's…four, now? Or is it five?"

Alistair chuckled at his wife's excitement, "Stalking Zevran again, dear?"

She was hunched over her writing desk, grasping a tattered letter in her hands, its worn envelope thrown on the desk. "Well I have _nothing_ better to do. I have nothing to do as a Grey Warden anymore, the Kingdom is at relative peace right now, although this affair in the Free Marches will probably break that soon. What else am I meant to do? Zevran's the only one of our friends who still keeps in touch and is actually out doing something _interesting_."

He held out his hand and Eleanor placed the latter in it, eager for him to read its contents. He scanned it quickly, his eyes bulging in surprise as he read, "He's – Maker, I'm reading this wrong, I have to be. Zevran? Serious about someone? Surely not." Eleanor grinned at him, signalling for him to keep reading. "Andraste's flaming knickers, she did what? Holy – since when did things get so serious for him?"

"Apparently since he was taken hostage by a homicidal but misunderstood blood mage," she snickered, a strange feeling of relief and joy filling her. "Oh, it's so nice that he's found someone. He says it's because of me – I don't know if you read that part yet – and our time together travelling and fighting. He says I helped awaken a side to him he thought he had lost because of the Crows." She smiled broadly, her joy lighting up her face. "Oh Alistair, I'm so happy for him, even if she does sound a little…strange. Then again, we're no strangers to strange p – "

A finger on her lips silenced her. "You're rambling again dear," smiled Alistair. He loved it when she did that. It was usually about nothing, but he rarely had the heart to stop her, knowing how excited she got about things, no matter how big or small. It was something he had rarely seen her do during the Blight, since there was little to be excited about. Whenever she started rambling he would let her talk until eventually he would kindly remind her that she had been talking for Maker-only-knows how long and she would blush, embarrassed that she had gotten carried away again, his heart swelling at the tint of her cheeks. It just made her look so lovable – not that she didn't normally – he couldn't help but love her even more when she got like it.

Of course, she wasn't always the babbling girl before him now. Usually she was one of two people, depending on their company and environment. On one hand, she was a strong, powerful leader who people looked to for wisdom and guidance; his Queen. On the other hand, she was a seductive, manipulating woman who knew exactly what to say – or not say as was often the case – to drive him crazy with desire and want. Obviously, the latter was saved for private company…usually. Sometimes though, his Queen would get mischievous and test his willpower during boring but vital meetings or formal meals with important allies. A stroke of her foot up his calf, a brush of her hand on his thigh, a whisper in his ear regarding her lack of underwear. Maker, the woman was crazy sometimes, but then again, that's why he loved her. She was never boring.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, remembering the reason he had gone to see her in the first place, "Your brother's on his way. He sent a messenger ahead of him. I've told the servants to make up a room for him and his wife."

_Ahhh, his wife. _Eleanor's heart sank at the mention of her brother's wife. While she was overjoyed that he had found happiness again, she couldn't help but feel bitter sometimes towards his wife. She liked her, she really did, but she envied her sometime terrible as well. Alistair noticed the drop in his wife's features, "I'm sorry love. I should have thought..."

She waved a hand dismissively, "Don't apologise Alistair. She can't help being a healthy, fertile young woman and I can't help being what I am. I have come to terms with the fact that I cannot bear your children. Let's just drop it now, shall we. I will enjoy my brother's visit and quietly envy the child his wife is carrying." She folded the letter in her hand and put it safely back in the envelope. She then placed it in a drawer, filled with an assortment of papers and similar envelopes, each one bearing the wax seal of the Crows, each Crow with a cross over its heart.

Alistair sighed to himself. It was times like this when the rare, but heart-breaking side of his wife showed: the miserable, broken side that he had hope had long since disappeared. No matter how happy she was, there was a hole in her heart that neither of them could fill. For the first year of their marriage it hadn't been an issue, the two of them still in their 'honeymoon period'. But as time wore on, her desire to become a mother had grown, as had her despair. And he was powerless to help her. He felt useless, his own Taint being part of the problem, but she never blamed him as she knew it would be just as difficult if only one of them had the Taint. And what good would blaming each other do anyway? Their tainted blood had done a lot of good for the world. Hell, they'd ended the Blight. But that did them little good now.

She asked for a little time to herself, which Alistair readily gave her. He knew his wife and if she needed space to herself, he gave her it. Trying to comfort her only led to arguments and anger, which was not what he wanted. So he left the study and awaited Fergus' arrival in the main hall of the palace.

When she was sure Alistair was gone, Eleanor returned to her drawer full of letters and began pulling them out of the drawer frantically, searching for one in particular. She found it near the bottom of the drawer, where she'd left it in case Alistair got curious, and held it up triumphantly before opening it.

_My dearest Eleanor,_

_I don't know how you managed to get a letter to me, but please, it is too dangerous to write to me personally. In future, I will correspond to you and you must not write back. I'm sorry Eleanor, but this is how it needs to be. It is too dangerous for both of us. If, though, Maker forbid, you are in a life or death situation and in need of your faithful assassin friend, you can send your missive to the enclosed location. I will not be there – I think – but there will be someone there who can reach me, if necessary…_

She stopped reading then and retrieved the address. She reached for a sheet of parchment and quill, and began writing.

_Dear Zevran,_

_I know you said not to write unless it was an emergency, but I'd class this as an emergency. I don't know who else I can ask this of. Alistair does not have the skills necessary, and I would not want to get his hopes up only to crush them like my own if this does not work. I need a favour. I hate to ask this of you, but you are my best hope of finding her. I need to find Morrigan. She is my last hope of having children Zevran. She has already had Alistair's child, despite the Taint, and therefore knows a way around this infernal Taint in our bodies. We both know I will do anything to get this so please, help me find her. Find me a clue, _anything, _indicating where she is or may be. Please Zevran, I beg of you. Help me._

_Yours, Eleanor. _

_Ps. I'm serious. If you write to Alistair and tell him of this, I will find you and cut off your manhood with a rusty blade for betraying my trust. And we both know how much you like your manhood. _

Without waiting for the ink to dry, she folded the letter and sealed it, using her old Cousland seal to mark the wax. She collected herself and left the study, her face showing no signs of her earlier despair. She'd grown used to hiding her emotions over the years, and while she rarely did it anymore, she was well experienced when she had to place the mask on her face. She handed the letter to a servant and instructed them to have it delivered to the address written on it, before heading down to greet her brother.

"Ahhh, my little sister finally decides to grace us with her presence."

She grinned and turned to greet her brother, practically running and leaping into his arms. No matter how often she saw him, she was always glad to see him. "Just remember: just because you're Queen doesn't mean you're any less my sister."

She pulled out from his arms, keeping hold of his hands. "I wouldn't dream of it brother. Come, you must be weary from travel. You're room's ready, as always. You remember where it is, don't you?"

She accompanied her brother to his room, the servants following with his and his wife's luggage. Eleanor kept herself occupied with Fergus, leaving Alistair to entertain Evelyn, Fergus' pregnant wife. She was a pleasant woman, if a bit mild for his taste, but he knew Eleanor would never fully like her. Not while she had the one thing she didn't: children.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **I've been struggling with this lately. I know where I want to take this, it's just getting there. So if a chapter isn't great, my apologies. It's probably one of those chapters where I've struggled to link two ideas together. I feel like this is one of those chapters. Also, I'm going to be linking my two stories together a little. If you want the history of Zevran and Nina, please read _Crow Blood. _Thanks

* * *

He read her letter through again to make sure he'd read it properly, then sighed. _Maker, why can't I say no to her?_ He looked at sleeping elf curled up in his bed. _How am I going to tell her?_

As fate would have it, he didn't have to. Nina stirred and stretched, feeling around next to her.

"Zevran?" she mumbled sleepily. Her eyes found him by the fire, a piece of paper in his hand. "Is that from her?" she asked.

He sighed, "Yes. I need to do something for her. Something important." He placed the letter on the nightstand and joined her on the bed. "Mia cara, I do not want to leave you, not in your condition." He grasped at her hands, desperately wishing she could come with him, but knowing she couldn't.

Nina squeezed his hands comfortingly, "I'll be okay ma'vhenen. I can handle myself, remember," she said, wiggling her fingers, making small sparks shoot from them. "Besides, if you're so worried, I'll invite Isabella to stay with me while you're gone."

The idea of Isabella being there settled his nerves a little, though he still begrudged leaving his wife. _That's still make me chuckle: I have a wife. A_ wife._ Imagine past me hearing that the great Zevran Arainai, legendary assassin and slayer of Crows, is married – _he placed his hands on his wife's slightly-bulging belly – _and expecting a child as well. Maker, he'd bend over double laughing until his ribs hurt. _His hands gently stroked her stomach, an involuntary cooing noise coming from him as he did so. "I'll be back little one, don't you worry."

Looking back to his wife, he saw her eyes were filled with worry and unshed tears. He kissed them away, promising his return before their child was born, if it was the last thing he did. Before Nina could beg him to stay, he had collected his blades and emergency bag, and left.

* * *

What was taking him so long? Three months and still no news. Maker, it was driving her crazy. And now Alistair had noticed. He hadn't said anything, but she could tell from the worry in his eyes that he knew something was bothering her. They were becoming more and more reserved around each other and it was slowly killing her. It was killing them.

She sighed. _I'm gonna have to tell him, _she thought sadly.

She found him where he always was lately: in his reading room, hunched over a mountain of paperwork. Two months ago, he would have looked up at her hungrily, swept the papers off the desk and taken her right there and then. Now he simply looked up and sighed slightly, a weary smile on his lips. He missed the old version of themselves. He didn't know what was driving them apart, but he wanted rid of it as soon as possible.

"I owe you an explanation," she said, surprising him. She gnawed on her lip, clearly struggling with herself. "I've let my own stupid jealously and self-pity come between us."

He looked at her confused, "What are you talking about Eleanor? I don't understand."

Eleanor threw her hands up, exasperated. _Must I spell it out? _"Children, Alistair. My lack of them, my inability to have them, my brother's pregnant wife expecting them! It's the one last thing I was meant to be good for, and I can't even do that." She broke down then, her knees collapsing from under her, causing her to slump to the floor. Alistair rushed to her side and cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently as she cried.

"You still have plenty of worth Eleanor." She shook her head, so he held her face up until she looked him in the eyes. "Now listen up missy, because I am not going to repeat myself. You are not worthless. It just seems the Maker has different intentions for you than being a mother." Her face scrunched up in pain at his words, so he quickly changed tactics, "We have other options love. We could always adopt. I know you aren't keen on the idea, but it may help. And think of the joy you'd be bringing to that child."

Despite his words, she kept shaking her head, "It wouldn't be mine though. I wouldn't have carried it, felt it grow and kick inside of me. I wouldn't have broken every bone in your hand from squeezing so tight while giving birth to it. I wouldn't have gazed into its eyes for the first time and fallen in love right there and then." She sighed, "It wouldn't be mine."

"But it would be ours."

She hung her head at his words. He had a point, but she just couldn't change her view. He didn't understand. Men never did when it came to women-specific problems. He still didn't understand why her lack of monthly mood-swings upset her. He still didn't understand why she wanted so desperately to bear a child. And try as he might, he probably never would understand. But he did try, and that was better than nothing.

"It would, but I wouldn't have my heart in loving that child. It'd be cruel to take in a child that needed above all else love, love which I wouldn't be able to give it." Eleanor hid her face in his chest again, ashamed of herself. It broke Alistair's heart to see her like that, frail and weak, not at all the woman she normally was.

They stayed like that for a while, knelt on the floor huddled together. After a while, Eleanor pushed away slightly and wiped her eyes. She smiley feebly at him, her sorrow still heavy in her eyes, then kissed his lips tenderly. "I'll be fine. It'll just…take a while to come to terms with, that's all." She silently pleaded that he believed her, that she believed her. _I can't pin all my hopes on Zevran, I shouldn't…but what other choice do I have?_

* * *

"She's getting worse Teagan, and I don't know what to do."

Teagan watched quietly as his nephew, the King – the title still sounded odd to him – slowly drank himself into a stupor.

"She finally spoke to me, but now I feel even worse. Now I _k_now it's my fault. Maker, I'm a terrible husband!"

Deciding it was time to step in, Teagan moved his chair closer to Alistair's and poured himself a drink, before it was all gone. "It is no-one's fault Alistair. You both know it would be just as difficult if only one of you were a Warden. As it is, your chances of conceiving are basically nil. Alistair, I hate to suggest it, but if you truly want to offer her her own child…perhaps, you should consider her trying to conceive with...another man." Alistair looked at him shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, but Teagan held his hands up to stop him, "Let me continue. With another man your chances go from nil to very unlikely. If she agrees, you should choose someone trusted, but who has a similar appearance to you, or to Eleanor. That way it will not look like Eleanor has been unfaithful. It is a drastic option, but if it will make the both of you happy, then it is something to consider."

Alistair sat there dumbstruck. Ask her to have someone else's child? Could he do it? "I don't even…"

Teagan placed a hand on his shoulder, "Just…think about it."

Refilling his drink, he cast a worried look on Alistair. _I do not envy you. _Resigned, he grabbed his drink and left Alistair alone in his study.

He cradled his head in his hands, torn about what Teagan had said. _Maker_,_ what am I going to do? _

He just couldn't catch a break today. "Are you ok your highness?"

Her head whipped around and she hastily wiped her eyes. _Shit, not him. He'll tell Alistair. _"I'm fine Teagan, thank you."

The scene in front of him was so familiar he felt like he was having déjà vu. Eleanor was hunched over her desk, a glass in her hand – a nearly-empty bottle on a table instead of in her hand – her eyes red and puffy. "Bull shit." She stared at the red-head with wide eyes. "You are not fine. Maker, you're not even okay. I'm not an idiot. Now I'm going to assume this is because of your children problem." Her face scrunched up in pain and he nodded slowly, "Just as I thought."

_Maker, why is it always down to me to clean up other people's messes? _He joined her at the desk and placed a hand over hers. "Eleanor, you can't keep pushing him away. He's suffering too and you isolating yourself is affecting him as much as this is affecting you." Teagan felt her hand begin to shake beneath his as she took a long swig of wine before setting the glass down and grabbing the bottle.

"I don't know how to be around him Teagan. I feel like he's treading on eggshells around me. I've told him I'll be fine, it's just going to take some time to move on. Yet he's still acting the same and I can't go back to normal if he won't. I need him to be strong, because Maker knows that right now I'm not."

Teagan sighed, "To say you two run the country, you're terrible at communicating. Have you told him this? Because how is he going to know how you feel if you haven't told him?"

Eleanor hung her head. _Andraste's arse I'm an idiot! _She shot up from her seat, finished her drink then headed towards the door. "Excuse me Teagan, I need to go and find my husband."

Teagan shook his head and sighed. "Those two are idiots sometimes."


	3. Chapter 3

Despite Teagan's advice and her alcohol induced bravery, Eleanor was still stood at the door to Alistair's study, hands flailing restlessly. She gnawed on her lip, suddenly scared. _What if he refuses to talk to me? I would. I've done nothing but push him away these last few months. Why wouldn't he do the same?_

_Because he loves you, you moron!_

Decided, she pushed open the door to his study and walked in.

Empty.

Confused, she looked around the room. Nothing special stood out, except for some sort of list scribbled down on a piece of parchment with an word circled. Curious, she looked at the list and tried to decipher her husband's messy writing. _Are those…names? And whose has he circled? _Zevran?! _Maker...he knows. He has to. _

Deciding it was time to face the music and find him, she continued searching the room for clues pertaining to his whereabouts. Noticing his sword and shield were missing from their stand, she sighed, went to get her own swords, then went out to the training yard.

As predicted he was there, hacking away at a row of training dummies. A smile played on Eleanor's lips as she said, "I'd be careful. You keep that up and they'll gang together and seek revenge."

He stopped in his tracks, his sword getting stuck in the training dummy. "I'd like to see them try." A ghost of a smile graced his lips as her words reminded him of their ongoing joke.

_It's a start, _thought Eleanor. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and marched over to stand in front of her husband. He looked at her confused as she pulled him down to her and kissed him passionately. She tried to express her feelings to him in her kiss: love, despair, hope, sorrow. In return, he poured his own emotion into the kiss: adoration, regret, forgiveness, remorse. When they eventually broke apart, they stared at each other with blurry eyes.

"Maybe we should talk somewhere more private," suggested Eleanor. Alistair nodded, retrieving his sword and following his wife inside to his study. _Shit, the list's still on my desk. Looks like I'm gonna have to ask her now rather than later when I have his answer. _

They shuffled awkwardly around the study, neither one sure how to begin the confession. "I should explain," they finally said at the same time. They blushed and laughed awkwardly, both signalling for the other to talk. "I wrote to Zevran for help," they said simultaneously, staring at each other with wide eyes full of confusion.

"Wait, _you _wrote to Zevran too? When?" asked Alistair.

Eleanor fidgeted anxiously, "A few months ago. But he's not replied yet. Maybe he won't."

The confusion in Alistair's eyes grew, "Wait, a few months ago? So then…what did you write to him about?"

"Clearly not what you wrote to him about," she said, trying to avoid directly answering him yet. "What did _you _write to him about? And what's with that list of yours?" she asked, waving her hand towards his desk and the piece of parchment on it.

It was his turn to fidget now. "It was Teagan's idea," he said reluctantly, looking at his feet, "A way for you to increase your chance of having a child." He remained looking at his feet, as if they would provide the answer to all of their problems.

The cogs in Eleanor's mind made quick work of putting together his plan, at least the rough version of it, and a gasp of shock escaped her lips before she could stop it. She clamped her hands over her mouth as the realisation of what Alistair was proposing sank in. "Alistair! That's absurd! I couldn't do that!"

"Just hear me out first," he grasped her hands in his, urging her to listen. "Together, our chances of conceiving a child are basically non-existent. But with someone else, you have a chance – a small chance, but still a chance."

Eleanor mulled over his – or rather Teagan's – idea. It had credit, she had to admit, but it was just as flawed as it was brilliant. "But, why would he agree to do it? He has Nina remember. They're married and if I read his blatant hinting correctly he's expecting his own child."

_Andraste's great flaming arse! Nina. Oh, how could I forget about her? _"I – well I – I trust him, despite our history. He's a dear friend and the only person I'd even truly consider asking this of – as you've seen from my list."

Eleanor shook her head, unconvinced. "Alistair, even if _he_ agreed to do this, I don't think I could do it. Have you thought about this properly? What if it looks like him? How many tries do you think it will take us to even have a shot at conceiving? We _would_ have to have sex Alistair, and a lot of it. And before even considering if _you_ would be okay with that, have you even thought if _I _want to have sex with Zevran and furthermore have _his _child?"

Well that shut him up. Alistair looked at her dumbstruck. He really hadn't thought this through properly. He blamed alcohol for impairing his judgement, but he knew it was his own eagerness to make Eleanor happy that was his real downfall; the alcohol just hastened the speed at which he acted rashly. He would do anything for her, as he had proven many times in the past.

"I – no, I guess I didn't." He gnawed on his lip before asking, "So, how _do _you feel about this? _If_ Zevran agrees, would you be happy to…try?"

She thought for a few moments before answering. Would she be happy to try with him?_ Well first he'd have to agree. A few years ago he'd have jumped at the chance to sleep with me, but now? Now he's married. He's a changed man who, despite clearly still having the same over-active sexual drive, is a one woman man. _She sighed, "I would first like to say that I doubt Zevran would agree to this. If he did however, well I'm afraid I probably wouldn't be able to agree to do it. I love _you _Alistair. While I want a baby, I don't just want any baby. I want _yours_."

He nodded slowly, finally understanding. "I need to write to him again, tell him to ignore my first letter." He sat down at his desk and rummaged around for a clean sheet of parchment, but a hand stopped him. He looked up and saw his wife sat on his desk, a tender look in her eyes. "You can do that later dear. How about we go upstairs instead?" she asked, her hand trailing up his arm.

He smirked, "Oh? Is there something interesting up there?"

Removing her hand, Eleanor slunk towards the door, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. "There will be soon, but you'll have to follow me if you want to find out what it is," she said, winking before leaving the room and heading upstairs. He followed eagerly, pushing aside any worries or nagging doubts for now; they could be addressed later. Right now he had his wife back, at least for a while. He didn't know how long this would last, so Maker damn him for it, but he intended to make the most of it.

She was already waiting for him on the bed when he reached their bedroom. She was still in her dress, though it was hiked up to show off her luscious, long legs, and her underwear now lay on the floor. He chuckled at the sight, "Someone's eager."

She shrugged shamelessly then beckoned him to join her on the bed. "I've missed you. Of course I'm eager."

He pulled his shirt over his head and stood over his wife. "You missed me?" he asked.

"Of course I did. Alistair, I needed you, I still do, and recently it's felt like we've been worlds apart. You're what keeps me going when I want to give up, and lately that's been more and more." He looked at her properly then. He didn't see the confident woman who had just been grinning up at him. No, he saw the woman who'd seen her parents be slaughtered in front of her eyes; he saw the woman who'd been broken inside of Fort Drakon; he saw the woman who found out that she was most likely going to die the next day to save her country.

He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. She momentarily stiffened against him before relaxing and letting him comfort her. _Maker, I missed this, _she sighed contently. Alistair tightening his arms briefly, squeezing her comfortingly and holding her closer. He rested his head on top of hers, kissing her hair tenderly. "I'm sorry," apologised a muffled voice, "I didn't want to be like this again. I hate still being weak. At least before I could fight my weakness and kill it. But how can I fight something that is a physical part of me?" She pulled back from him and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her dress, "Oh well. Now is not the time to dwell on that. I've spent too long lately dwelling on the things I can't do. Perhaps it's time I focused on the things I _can _do." She wriggled out of Alistair's arms and gently coerced him backwards, further onto the bed. "Things like…_this,"_ she said, pulling off his trousers and underwear, and lowering her head to him.

Before he could protest, her lips were wrapped around him. _Sly little minx, _he thought before his senses flooded with pleasure. She worked him expertly, knowing exactly which spots to hit to make him grip the bed sheets. Far too quickly his grip had slackened and his muscles had gone limp. Eleanor grinned up at him and licked her lips. He was blushing vividly, though whether it was from the exertion or embarrassment, it was hard to tell. "I – it has been a while remember," he stammered, his blush spreading down his torso. Eleanor stood on her knees above him, smiling wickedly.

"I guess we'll just have to wake him back up again then, won't we?" Before his brain could register the meaning of her words, Eleanor had pulled her dress off over her head and was crawling up his body, kissing as she went. Her skin against his sent shivers through Alistair's body, causing his pleasure grow again. She nipped at his neck and smirked as low growls began vibrating through chest. Quick as a flash she found herself face down on the bed, her wrists pinned above her head. She moaned involuntarily, her body responding to Alistair's weight against her back and hips. His free hand teased at her, grabbing and squeezing at her luscious rear, making her squirm under him. "Alistair…" she moaned, "_Please…_"

He wanted to tease her mercilessly. He wanted to, but Maker, it'd been so long since they'd had sex. With a satisfied groan he plunged into her heat, holding still for a moment and savouring the feeling of being inside her again. Impatient, Eleanor thrust her hips backwards, impaling herself further on Alistair's cock, making them both cry out with pleasure. Using both hands on her hips for leverage, he pounded into her ruthlessly, his instincts taking over as his self-control swiftly left.

Neither of them lasted long, despite their best efforts to hold on just a little longer. They collapsed on the bed together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, a sated grin plastered on their faces. They untangled themselves reluctantly and spread out at the top of the bed, Alistair's head resting on Eleanor's chest.

"I have to say," panted Alistair, "we're a bit out of shape. Clearly we need to practice more." He looked up from her chest, a cheeky smile spread across his lips. "Let's start right now."


	4. Chapter 4

He stood impatiently, tapping his foot, arms crossed. _Maker, won't they ever stop._

A flustered looking elven servant ran towards their room. She was carrying a small silver tray with the King and Queen's private post on it - the trivial post was left to him to deal with. Teagan held out a hand and stopped her. "I wouldn't interrupt them if I were you."

The elf chewed on her lip nervously, "But it is my job, messere, to deliver –"

"That it may be, but I am telling you that if you go in there now, you will deeply regret it." He sighed, seeing that the servant was still unsure, "Look, what if _I_ give them their post. I handle it all anyway and I'm waiting to see them as it is."

The elf looked at his open hand questioningly. "I – Thank you messere," she said then scuttled off.

* * *

_Your Majesties! It's nearly noon._

Eleanor's head whipped around to stare at the door. "Alistair…maybe we should…" she tried to speak, but he refused to let up. He was so close. He pushed her further down on the desk and increased his pace, causing the desk to rattle loudly beneath them.

_Stop defiling the furniture and put some clothes on, _please_! _

Alistair grunted with frustration then picked up the pace even more. Underneath him, Eleanor clawed helplessly at the desk, mewling with pleasure, begging for release. He eagerly obliged, his thrusts becoming erratic. Her walls gripped him tightly, helping him find his own release. He collapsed bonelessly on top of her, supporting himself on his arms so he didn't squash her.

"Give us a minute Teagan," shouted Eleanor shakily from underneath him. They heard an audible sigh come from behind the door and giggled. Reluctantly, Alistair pulled out from Eleanor and fetched a cloth for her to clean herself with. They half dressed, Alistair in his trousers, Eleanor in her underwear and dressing gown. She gave him a quick kiss before going to the door and unlocking it. "Good morning Teagan," she beamed at him as she opened the door.

"Hardly," he said grumpily, barging past her and into their room. He tried not to let his shock show as he took in the state of the room; it looked like an army had marched through there and destroyed everything in their path. "Sleep well?"

The couple before him blushed and giggled like school children, "Oh yes."

Teagan sighed and rolled his eyes, handing the little tray in his hand to Eleanor. "While it's _lovely _that you've clearly sorted things out, please stop scaring the staff. A lot of the elves are skittish enough without you two making it worse." He saw them briefly look down, their perfect bubble momentarily popped.

"Is there a reason for your visit uncle?" asked Alistair.

Teagan began listing off the issues of the day to Alistair – and presumably her as well – but Eleanor's attention was elsewhere. She stared at the little tray in her hand, her eye caught by the wax seal on the letter on top: it bore the Crow's stamp, but had been crossed over the heart of the Crow. Eventually, Teagan left. She mumbled a goodbye to him as he left then sat down on the bed.

Alistair noticed straightaway the change in her behaviour. "Eleanor?" he asked tentatively.

Suddenly remembering he was there, Eleanor looked up at him and smiled. She hid the seal on the letter, but waved it in the air. "I have a letter."

"So I can see," he chuckled. He wasn't convinced it was just any old letter_, _but he waited to see how she reacted to it before asking questions.

Gingerly, she opened the letter.

_My dearest Eleanor,_

_It has not been easy, the task you set me, for two reasons. First: Morrigan is a very tricky woman to find, especially when she clearly doesn't want to be found. Second: my Nina is with child and I am begrudged to leave her alone during this time, but I am glad to say that I have returned to her safely and she is well, as is our child. _

_But you do not want to hear about that, you want to know my findings. I tracked Morrigan through Ferelden, but she has not stayed in one place long enough for me to get a lot of information, at least nothing useful. I did, however, find out from a clan of Dalish that the elves are also looking for her. Apparently, she stayed with a group of them recently and when she left, an ancient text of theirs went with her. I believe that they are your best bet at finding her. I would also suggest taking your Mabari to her hut in the Wilds and tracking her that way. As for a solid location though, I'm afraid I cannot give you one. She is slippery, my friend, and clearly does not want to be found. _

_This is all I can give you I'm afraid. I wish I had more information for you, but I am sad to say I do not. I do, however, have a word of advice for you. Do not keep this from Alistair any longer (knowing you, he still does not know about our correspondence). Keeping him in the dark will not save him any more heartbreak and it is better he knows from the beginning and can fully support you, than him finding out afterwards when you've sunk into a depression and he discovered that you went behind his back. _

_Well that is all, my dear. I hope you find Morrigan and get your dream. You deserve it. _

_Your friend, Zevran_

"Maker, why is he always right?" asked Eleanor out loud. Alistair looked at her confused and she sighed, "Zevran replied to my letter." _I guess I'd better tell him. _"You told me last night why you wrote to him. It's my turn to tell you now." And so she did. She told him about her letter and how she'd asked him to find Morrigan for her – Alistair's eyes went wide at that part, but he let her continue. She told him about why she had become so introverted. And she told him about Zevran's findings. When she was done, Alistair said nothing, just nodded slowly.

"I'm going to try and find her Alistair and…I'd like you to come with me," she said after a while.

Alistair still hadn't said anything yet, his brain still taking in the new information. His eyes suddenly focused at her words. He grasped her hands in his, "Of course I will. But…are you sure about this?"

She smiled up at him, "Yes."

"Then we have a lot to do today." Eleanor looked at him slightly confused, so he continued, "Well if we're going to set off as soon as possible, we have a lot of loose ends to tie up. I need to talk to Teagan, after all he is my Regent – shit, I still need to write to Zevran again!" He quickly shut up as he was pulled down and kissed sweetly. He blushed slightly, caught off guard.

"You're rambling dear," joked Eleanor.

* * *

"Have you got everything?"

They rolled their eyes simultaneously; this was the fifth time he'd asked. "Yes," they said exasperated. Teagan shuffled restlessly on the spot. He didn't like this, the two of them leaving at the same time, meaning he was in charge. He didn't mind being in charge, he was used to it as Regent. No, what he minded was the both of them leaving together. He didn't know what they were up to, but he was suspicious. To their disdain, he had suggested they at least conceal their identities while travelling. Reluctantly they had agreed, knowing full well that there are always rogue assassins out there, waiting to kill those with power, something they most certainly had plenty of.

They said their goodbyes, the couple promising to return as swiftly as they could. It didn't fill Teagan with confidence, but there was little he could do as they were already picking up their backpacks and walking out the door, their hoods up and Eleanor's mabari following behind them.

* * *

It had been years since they had first visited the Wilds, but they could still remember the way to Flemeth's hut like it was yesterday. Flemeth's hut was still uninhabited, but they had always suspected that Flemeth wasn't really dead; rumours of a dragon swooping down and saving the now Champion of Kirkwall, a former Ferelden citizen, had greatly supported this belief.

Eleanor's mabari, Smelly, whined. She reached down to pet him comfortingly, "Don't worry boy, we'll find her."

"Come on, let's look inside," urged Alistair.

Smelly led the way, stopping only to have the door to Flemeth's hut opened for him. Once inside, he began growling viciously. _Someone's in here, _thought Eleanor.

"Not another step! What are you doing here?" demanded a female elf. She bore the signs of being a Dalish elf, her armour and tattoos clearly identifying her. She held a sword out towards them, causing Smelly to growl at the elf. "Call off your hound!" Eleanor petted her hound comfortingly, whispering, "Easy boy," as she stroked. Smelly calmed down and in turn the elf lowered her sword.

"Tell us who you are," said Alistair.

The elf sighed, "Fine. I am Ariane, of the Dalish people. My Keeper sent me here to find Asha'bellanar – the Woman of Many Years."

Alistair laughed, "You're a little late I'm afraid. Flemeth is dead."

"Many have tried to kill Asha'bellanar in the past. Do not claim victory until a few centuries have passed without sight of her. But that is not why I am here. We thought she could help us find her daughter, Morrigan. The young witch has caused trouble for my clan."

"Ohh," cried Eleanor, "You're from the clan of Dalish she stole from!"

Ariane looked at her surprised, "Yes, Morrigan stole an ancient book my clan has guarded since the days of Arlathan. We were the only ones with such a piece of our history. Everything we once had, all our legacy of our ancient magics were stripped from us, first by the Tevinter magisters, then by the wretched Circle. And Morrigan took what little was left."

"But how can you be sure it was Morrigan?" asked Alistair.

"One month ago, she visited our clan in the name of friendship, and took great interest in history." Her face hardened, "She knew _exactly_ what she was looking for. The Keeper allowed her to see the book. Two nights later, it was gone. For almost two thousand years, the Dalish people have been wanderers, a shadow of what we once were. This book – as much of a mystery as is it is to us – is one of the only clues on how to reclaim that past."

Eleanor and Alistair shared a knowing glace and nodded slightly. "Why not join us? We both want Morrigan, and we can aid each other," asked Eleanor.

Ariane looked at them warily before nodding her agreement. "Very well. The book was reclaimed for my clan by an elven mage, who stole it from the Circle of Magi before defecting. He said other similar treasures remained in the library, but they would never allow a Dalish to view them. Perhaps you two will receive a different reception…"

Eleanor and Alistair looked at each and smirked, a laugh threatening to escape their lips. Ariane looked at them puzzled and thought, _Shems. _Eventually, Eleanor said, "Oh, I'm pretty sure we'll receive a different reception. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. Dear?"

Alistair pulled down his hood, "I am King Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden. And this," he said, indicating to Eleanor who was pulling down her hood, "is my wife, Queen Eleanor Theirin. Pleased to meet you."

The elf stared at them again, "But…you don't look like them." It was true. In order to keep Tegan happy, they had allowed their appearances to be altered – nothing drastic, just temporary physical changes. The major change was their hair colours: Eleanor's flaming red hair was now snow white, as if years of ruling had drastically aged her; Alistair's strawberry blonde hair was now off-black, paling his skin and washing him out. Eleanor's usual striking red make-up had been swapped for heavy black eyes and nude lips, so to help her not stand out; red was her signature colour which everyone recognised. Both of them wore lighter armour than normal, since everyone knew that nowadays they wore fancy ceremonial plate – though their armour was by no means of poor quality, being made of the finest drakeskin and dragonhide.

"Good. That means it's working."

Deciding there was little point in staying there any longer, the trio decided to leave the Wilds and head north towards the Circle of Magi. Eleanor and Alistair pulled their hoods back up and lead the way out of the Wilds.


	5. Chapter 5

"Your Majesties, welcome. Forgive my colleague for not recognising you sooner and for treating you so poorly. Please, can I help with anything?"

Eleanor smiled warmly at the Knight-Commander, "It's no problem. We are disguised, after all. We were hoping to visit your library."

The Knight-Commander gestured for them to follow him, "Of course, anything. Just, please keep your hound under control. While I know he's well behaved, some of the apprentices are easily startled." He ignored the elf with them, not caring who she was; if she was with the King and Queen, she must be trustworthy.

They walked through the tower, which was now fully restored to its former glory. "As you can see, things are much changed since when you were last here. Feel free to have a look around, though I must ask you to stick to the first floor. Tower policy. I'm sure you understand."

Eleanor and Alistair nodded their understanding, so the Knight-Commander left them to look around. When he was out of ear-shot the two of them sighed. "Finally," said Eleanor. "We don't really get on with Templars," explained Eleanor to Ariane. "We don't have a great history. Sure, we saved the Circle, but they'd have rather invoked the Rite of Annulment and made every mage here Tranquil. And then of course, there was the time before our wedding…" Eleanor trailed off, sharing a knowing look with her husband. She didn't explain, but Ariane didn't care to hear the story anyway.

"Let's search the index for anything useful," said the elf.

They spent a while in the Tower's library. Like so many things in their lives, things were never straight forward. When they eventually managed to fathom out the index system, they then had the challenge of finding the book they needed in the right sections, which weren't very clearly labelled. Once they did find the book they needed, their hearts sank; it was all in ancient elvish and none of them could read it. They scoured the library for a book to help them and luckily, with the help of a book on ancient languages, they managed to translate the book.

"Whoa! Who let a dog in here? Be careful!" shouted a mage hysterically.

Smelly whined pitifully. He was far smarter than most people thought and was highly insulted by the mages tone of voice. "Hey, leave my dog alone," snapped Eleanor. "It's ok boy, the mean mage didn't mean it."

Alistair sighed. Sometimes, it seemed unnatural how attached Eleanor was to her mabari, but then again, she had had him for years. "Sorry about that. He's excited to see the floor without abomination goo all over it," he joked.

A look of recognition crossed the mage's face, "I know you! You're the Grey Warden heroes!" The two of them gave a proud nod to the mage, glad to hear someone refer to them as Grey Wardens and not royalty. "This is even worse," their faces sank, "Didn't they teach you proper care of ancient volumes when you were young? Maker! People save the country and suddenly think they can abuse priceless books willy-nilly!"

Eleanor sighed, impatient. "Look, unless you can be of use to us, please leave us to our research." He was starting to bug Eleanor. First he upset her mabari, then he insulted her upbringing. She became very aware that the mage was trying to read the book in Ariane's hand.

"Hmm…browsing the chapter on the Eluvians? No one's actually found one you know."

"You know what 'Eluvian' is?" asked Ariane, surprised and hopeful.

"It's old elvish for '_seeing glass_'. Mirror. But 'Eluvian' isn't just any mirror, it's a special kind. When the Imperium ransacked Arlathan, they took these mirrors and tried to unlock their power, but all they could use them for was communication over long distances."

Eleanor and Alistair looked at each other puzzled. "Why would Morrigan be interested in that?" asked Eleanor. _Who is she trying to contact? _

"Ahh, you have a friend with a special interest? Maybe she needs to talk to someone?" joked the mage, giggling like an idiot. The group shot him a look and his laughter quickly died, replaced by an awkward silence. Ariane broke the silence first, telling the group about an incident that happened with another Dalish clan recently. Two of their hunters had encountered a strange mirror in some old ruins; one of them disappeared, while the other became deathly ill and eventually died. The clan moved north shortly after, in order to try and forget their sorrows.

"But what of the mirror?" asked the annoying mage. _So little consideration for people, _thought Eleanor, _too much consideration for books and artefacts. _

"Shattered. Destroyed."

He gasped, horrified, "Why?" _Definitely annoying, _thought Alistair. He scoffed loudly, making his distaste clear to the mage.

Ariane explained that it was corrupted beyond recovery and had had to be destroyed in order to protect anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with it. The mage – Finn they discovered – starting arguing with Ariane and explaining that it could be used to find other mirrors like it, uncorrupted ones. But he wasn't sure, not completely anyway. In order to be sure he needed to visit the repository. As usual though, it wasn't a straight forward task. The sentinels in the repository were acting strangely and so it was locked down. And as usual, Eleanor and Alistair offered to help.

They fought their way through the repository, Finn aiding the group, until they reached an old Tevinter statue. Unfortunately, it was little help to them when they reached it; tears in the Veil were hindering the investigation process. So they continued through the repository, closing the tears in the Veil until none remained. Once again, they visited the Tevinter statue.

"You know talking to inanimate objects is the first sign of insanity," joked Ariane.

"Not if it talks back," said Finn.

The statue introduced itself, but Finn quickly interrupted it. It greeted Finn, clearly on good terms with the mage, and the rest of the group looked at him oddly.

"You two have a…close relationship?" asked Eleanor, trying not to snigger. _I'm watching a man talk to a statue! A statue! I shouldn't be surprised, but… it's a _statue!

"We've conversed before, on the Imperium," he replied, then turned back to the statue, talking to it overly slowly, "We know where a broken Eluvian lies. Can it still be used to find the others?"

_Scry. The broken glass, dagger-sharp, will be your key. The Lights of Arlathan will illuminate the scryer's path. The archons possessed them, but they were misused, befouled, and lost, like so much the Imperium touched. Some were saved, carried by fugitives from the elven city. Their sorrow awoke the Stone, and her children sheltered them. They found a sanctuary in the deep halls of Cad'halash, now known as Cadash. There the Lights of Arlathan lie, shielded from unworthy eyes. _

"Cadash thaig isn't _that _old, surely," said Alistair.

Finn turned to look at him, mouth open. "So you know of it. Convenient."

_Goodbye Finn. We will not speak again. _

They waited to see if the statue had anything else to say, but it said nothing else. "So…looks like we need to find these Lights and then go to the place where the broken Eluvian is," said Eleanor. "I guess we'd better get going then."

They headed out of the repository, glad to be above ground again. As soon as they were through the door, Ariane pinned Finn against the wall. "Now mage, tell us what's going on. What haven't you told us?"

To his credit, Finn hardly flinched under her weight, though he did whimper like a hurt puppy. "The Eluvians are linked. All of them. If you have one, you can find the others, if they still exist." Ariane moved away from him, seemingly happy. Finn brushed down his robes and continued speaking, "But the one you know of is broken, and corrupted. So we need something else to…amplify the magic."

"The Lights of Arlathan," said Ariane.

"Yes."

"That's all well and good," interrupted Eleanor, "but how is this going to help us find Morrigan? That's the whole reason we're here."

Finn looked at her like she was stupid. "Because, clearly she was trying to find a working Eluvian, so we need to find where one is and get to it before she does. Maker, I'd better go pack."

Eleanor excused herself for a second and dragged Alistair with her to the other side of the room. "Do we _have_ to bring him along? There's already more people involved in this than I'd have liked."

Alistair sighed. He agreed with her, but they had little choice but to accept his help. "It would be useful to have more fire power, especially since the mage is a spirit healer like Wynne. We don't know what we'll be up against, but knowing our luck, it won't be anything small."

She took her husband's hands in hers and looked up at him. "I suppose you're right. We really don't have much choice, do we?" She looked over to where Finn and Ariane were stood bickering about Maker knows what. "The mage doesn't look like he's ever been outside though. I am not going to put up with someone who squeals whenever they get a speck of dirt on them. I _will_ push him into a muddy puddle if he pisses me off." Alistair wasn't entirely sure if she was joking or not, but the hard edge in her eyes told him she was completely serious.

He laughed quietly and kissed her forehead tenderly. "See? This is why I love you. Come on, let's round those two up and head off. We should try and reach Orzamar before the week's out."

"Let's see how much stamina Finn has," grinned Eleanor.

As it turned out, not a lot. He decided to tell them after they left that despite being able to for years, he never really left the tower, preferring instead to study the contents of the library. Eleanor rolled her eyes and shared a look with Alistair that said _I told you so. _Somehow though, they made it to Orzamar by the end of the week. They decided to enter Cadash Thaig through one of the old entrances and not Orzamar's, to save them weeks of travelling in the Deep Roads; Eleanor vividly remembered her time there and wanted to keep her time there to a minimum.

They camped outside of the entrance overnight, staying close enough to detect any movements from the door, but far enough away that they didn't feel like they were camping on the doorstep of the Deep Roads. It was bitterly cold in the mountains, so they pitched their tents amongst the trees to try and shelter them from the chill. Finn was left in charge of maintaining the fire, the wind making it difficult to maintain a fire without the aid of magic. Alistair had gone with Smelly to hunt for food, leaving Ariane and Eleanor alone by the fire.

"You know, you never said why you're tracking Morrigan."

"It's difficult to explain," sighed Eleanor. "She's an old…friend. A few years ago she helped Alistair and me – and in turn we helped her – then she left. But now we need her help again, only she's disappeared without a trace. I've had by best tracker trying to find her and even he could only give me a little information."

The elf regarded her. "This friend, your tracker, is he how you knew why I was after Morrigan?"

"Yes. He told me that the Dalish were after her for stealing an ancient text from them. It seems his information was correct."

They sat there in silence, staring into the fire. "But why all the farce with you and Alistair? I mean, surely it would make your task easier if you didn't have to keep proving who you are to people?"

Eleanor laughed, "You know, that's just what we told Teagan," Ariane looked at her puzzled, "Oh, that's Alistair's uncle and our Regent. He insisted we do it, so we don't draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves. Personally I think he'd paranoid, but he's probably right."

"You're very quick to trust aren't you. Why is that?" asked Finn from across the fire. He was looking at her expectantly, a protective barrier radiating from his hands over the flames.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you saying I shouldn't trust you?"

"No – no, that's not what I meant. Yes, you should trust me."

She sighed, "In answer to your question, I guess it's because when you're fighting aside people who have just as much responsibility for your life as you do for theirs, you _have_ to trust them. Otherwise, how can you trust that they'll have your back?"

"Well put my dear." Alistair walked into camp then, Smelly at his heel. The two of them were carrying a handful of dead rabbits, which Alistair held up for the group, "Stew anyone?"

Eleanor sighed. _Maker no! I did _not _miss his stew. _


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm not sure I like the Deep Roads. Fewer Darkspawn than expected, but it feels like we're being watched. Wait, why did we stop? Is this Cadash thaig?"

"Yes," huffed Eleanor, "so just do what you have to do so we can find these Lights." She was losing her patience with the mage. Finn wasn't used to being outside of the Tower and ever since they had left he had done nothing but complain. It was driving the group to breaking point with him. _I_ _swear I'm gonna find a pile of slime to shove his face in soon. _

"Right. So I've…er, been going through my old notes. Hmmm..." Finn shuffled through a few pages of notes, trying to find something in particular. After a while Eleanor grew impatient and prompted him to carry on. "Oh right. I came across this footnote. Apparently, the elves would magically conceal relics of great significance, thus shielding them from unworthy eyes, and given what the Tevinters did, I'd say they count as unworthy."

"You don't say," drawled Ariane sarcastically.

Finn ignored her, hypothesising about the locations of the Lights. "If the elves concealed the relics with magic, only the blood of their kin will reveal them," he looked at Ariane apologetically," Ariane…we need your blood."

"Excuse me?"

"Just a few drops, that's it!"

Eleanor and Alistair left them to argue, neither one wanting to interrupt.

"You share the same blood as the Arlathan elves, so you're the only one this enchantment might recognise."

"Fine, but just a few drops," she said, holding out her hand.

"I'll be gentle." He pulled out a small dagger and drew it across her palm. She cried out in pain, cursing him in elvish – from what little Eleanor understood, it was very colourful. "My spell will reveal vortices of magic. Standing in them should allow us to see the energy being drawn to the relics, which will lead us to them." Ariane glared at him and clutched at her hand, still cursing the mage.

"Let's just go, shall we?"

They wandered through the thaig, trying to find the vortices Finn mentioned. When they found one, Ariane's blood connection allowed them to see a trail of lights floating off into the distance, which they followed cautiously; while the thaig was quiet, it was not empty. There were a number of Darkspawn in the thaig, as well as Deep Stalkers. They were easily dispatched of since Eleanor and Alistair were experienced in killing Darkspawn. When they found the first Light, they discovered that ancient Guardians still protected the Lights. They were tough to kill, but not impossible and soon enough they had all four Lights of Arlathan.

"Great, that's all four. Let's head to the elven ruins when you're ready."

"We'll head out and make camp when it gets dark. It's quite a walk to reach the Brecilian Forest from here," said Eleanor. _This is our mission, not yours mage. You are _not_ in charge. _

"Maker, is it your time of the month or something?" joked Finn. Eleanor shot him a fiery, but pained glare and marched off towards the exit, Ariane and Smelly following behind her. "What did I say?" asked the mage.

Alistair, already on his way out, turned to face Finn. "She can't have children, you idiot. That's what you said." He jogged to catch up with his wife, grabbing her hand and squeezing it comfortingly.

"I need to find a tree. Quickly."

* * *

"Here," she dropped the pile of wood at his feet, "have at it." She glared at him before storming off towards her tent.

"She hates me, doesn't she?" asked Finn.

Both Alistair and Ariane replied, "Yes." Smelly barked his agreement then trotted over to Eleanor's tent, whining softly. She opened the flap of the tent, allowing him in, then quickly closed it again.

She sat at the edge of her bedroll, still in her armour, clutching her mabari to her. "It's ok boy. We'll find her. We have to." The flap to the tent opened and Alistair popped his head through.

"Room for a little one?" he asked, a tender smile on his face.

Eleanor scoffed, "Little? I don't know about that." She smiled at him and scooted over, allowing him room next to her to sit down.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the buckles on her armour. She nodded and shuffled so he had better access to the fastenings. "He didn't mean it maliciously you know," he said, his fingers expertly undoing the fastenings on her chest plate.

She sighed, "I know, but it still hurt." She let Alistair lift her chest plate over her head then pull off her gauntlets. Eleanor shuffled further up the bedroll to allow her more room to take off her greaves, while Alistair started taking off his own armour. "I'll probably forgive him though," she said, "just maybe _after_ I've shoved his face in something gooey." She pictured the pristinely clean mage bathed in mud and laughed, "Maker, he'd _hate _that." Smelly barked his approval and wagged his tail. Suddenly an idea struck her, "Smelly, come here boy. I've got a special job for you." She whispered something in the mabari's ear then sent him out of the tent, a sly, amused grin on her face.

"You are a wicked, wicked woman," said Alistair, having already guessed what she'd done. A few moments later they heard the cries of an annoyed mage wrestling with a large slobbering dog. The couple burst out laughing, not caring whether or not he heard.

"Ok, _now_ I forgive him."

* * *

"She must mean a lot to you, Morrigan. You've both put yourself in such great danger, just to find her."

"She does," said Alistair, shocking Eleanor a little; it was no secret that the two of them didn't care for one another.

"What will you do when you reach her?" asked Ariane.

Eleanor and Alistair looked at each other. They hadn't really planned that part yet. "I don't know," said Eleanor eventually. "I guess we didn't really think that far ahead. We have to find her first."

"We'll find her," promised Ariane, "You have my word." She addressed the whole group then, "The ancient Eluvian will be our key. It will be inside."

She led the way into the ruins, the group following warily behind her. Inside the ruins, infected elves blocked their way. The group presumed they were poor souls who didn't heed the warning left by the previous clan and strayed into the ruins in search of ancient treasure. Finn worried about catching whatever had infected them, making the group roll their eyes once again at him. After fighting their way through the maze-like ruin, they found a room with what looked like the frame of a large mirror in the centre with two giant statues supporting it, large shards of glass surrounding the frame.

"I can't believe this is one of the Eluvians," said Finn, his voice filled with awe. "It's magnificent…and broken. Mostly broken. With the shard and the Lights of Arlathan we should be able to scry for an unbroken mirror." He looked around, "This looks like a suitable place to do the ritual. We can start whenever you're ready."

Eleanor and Alistair nodded to each other. _This is it. We're going to find her. _"Let's do it," they said together.

As soon as Finn began scrying, Shades emerged from the shadows and attacked the group. They fought them off while Finn continued scrying. Wave after wave of creatures attacked them, but they were easily killed and soon Finn was done.

Finn looked down at himself. He was sweaty and a little bloody, presumably from a stray Shade hitting him while he was pre-occupied. "Phew! Am I bleeding? Oh look, a rip in my robe," he mumbled before passing out.

"What a baby," said Ariane. He came around shortly after, no one from the group offering him help up. "What happened to, _Ariane, give us your blood. Who cares if it hurts?_?"

"It's _my _blood. That's different."

Impatient, Eleanor stopped their bickering. "Enough. Did the ritual work Finn?"

"Yes. I've pinpointed another Eluvian. It's in the Dragonbone Wastes. The Tevinters probably moved it there to see if the ancient dragon bones could enhance the Eluvian's power."

Eleanor held up a hand in protest. "Wait, the Dragonbone Wastes? I was there recently and there was no such mirror, just a crazy Broodmother with huge tentacles and acid."

Finn rubbed his chin in thought, "It might be hidden… or only appear to those who know its location."

"Great! We're looking for a hidden mirror then. That shouldn't be too difficult to find," joked Alistair sarcastically. He turned to his wife and asked, "Which way is it love?"

Finn opened his mouth to answer for her, but she pulled out a roll of maps and 'accidently' his him with it; it instantly silenced him and reminding him who was in charge there. She selected a rather worn map from the roll and on it was a map of Ferelden. "We need to go to Amaranthine, to the west. There, we'll fine the Wastes. And probably a few dragons." Finn and Ariane's faces blanched at the mention of dragons, however, Alistair's lit up.

"Finally, something _difficult_ to kill! It'll be just like old times. Now all we need is Zevran trying to cry on Wynne's bosom and we're set." Eleanor and he laughed at the memory while their fellow companions looked on puzzled. When their laughter died down, he sighed, "Ahh, let's get going. We're going to have to travel fast if we want to have a shot at catching up to Morrigan."

They left the ruins hastily, eager to make haste towards Amaranthine. It would be a few days travel north, but if they hurried – an unlikely prospect with how Finn was – they would be there in around three days.

"Remember last time we were in the Brecilian Forest?" asked Alistair quietly to his wife.

She blushed deeply, a wide smile on her face. "Remember?" she asked, "How could I forget?"


	7. Chapter 7

**For some reason, fanfic isn't retaining spaces between paragraphs properly. I may have to use line breaks, but I don't like them :/ damn it**

* * *

The place gave him the heebie-jeebies. There were dragon skeletons everywhere and mysterious flames somehow staying alight, creating a path through the dragon graveyard. He felt like they were being watched, but by whom he didn't know.

Everyone's faces were set in a mask of fear, but none more so than Eleanor's. The memory of her last visit to the Dragonbone Wastes was still fresh in her mind, even after all those years. She knew what they would most likely come across in there, a thought which did not ease her fear, but increase it. She noticed Alistair looking at her worriedly and tried to erase any traces of fear from her face, replacing them with hard edges and focused eyes.

They wound through the dragon skeletons, fighting any cultists and dragons that stood in their way. They provided no clue as to where Morrigan was, so they continued on through the Wastes until they reached a large clearing. Eleanor's hard mask dropped instantly.

Alistair placed a hand on her shoulder, "What is it love?"

"We got ambushed by a high dragon here. We weren't prepared for such a fight. We killed it, obviously, but there was a point where I thought the dragon had won." She turned to address the group, "Still, no sign of any _living _high dragons."

With her back turned, she didn't see the source of Finn's terror straight away. He pointed shakily at the only standing building, stammering, "What…is…that?"

The group all turned to look in the direction he was pointing. Their mouths fell agape. On top of the building stood a large spider-like creature; it was as large as a high dragon and appeared to be made of rock.

"A – a Vaterral? It can't be! They're only legends!" exclaimed Ariane. They watched it rear its head and cry at the moon. "It is said they were rock and tree, wind and rain, given form and breath by the elven gods to protect their people." The Vaterral leapt down from the building and faced the group.

"To _protect _their people? Then why does it look like it's going to _eat_ you?" asked Finn hysterically. The Vaterral screeched at them, signalling its attack. It spat acid at the group, slowing them and burning holes in Finn's robes. His face contorted with anger. "Hey, I liked this robe," he shouted at the creature, unleashing a blizzard on it to vent his fury. The ice froze the beast, allowing the other three chance to find its weak spots and attack it. Alistair drew its attention at the front while Ariane and Eleanor incapacitated its legs. Eventually they managed to cripple its hind legs. It roared in pain and lashed out, knocking down Alistair and shooting more acid at him Finn. Without its hind legs, it struggled to attack them, so taking the opportunity, Eleanor climbed up a crippled leg and onto the Vaterral, digging her blades into it to help her climb. It tried to throw her off, but she sunk her blades in further to anchor herself to it. Finn froze it in place while she scaled its back until she reached its neck. In its weakened state, the Vaterral could do nothing but cry helplessly as Eleanor sunk her blades into its neck.

It slumped to the ground and Eleanor jumped off, her blades already back in their sheaths. She look a final look at the dead creature beside her before heading towards the Nest, the building the Vaterral had been guarding.

Alistair called after her, the group still briefly recovering after the fight. "Eleanor!" she turned to look at him, "Will you be alright in there?"

"I have to find her."

* * *

"The Eluvian! And it's…glowing? We should –"

Ariane put an arm out to stop Finn from charging ahead. Eleanor and Alistair stood staring at the Eluvian, their hands joined firmly together. In front of the mirror stood Morrigan. She placed her hand on the mirror's surface, causing ripples to spread from where she touched. The apostate looked towards her former travel companions, as if waiting for them to do something.

"I think she's…expecting you," said Ariane. She pulled Finn back, allowing them as much privacy as possible. Alistair and Eleanor nodded their agreement to the elf then turned their backs on the elf and mage. They heard Araine whisper, "Ask her about our book!" as they moved closer to their old friend. Smelly bound ahead and Morrigan scratched his ears in greeting. He bounced around excitedly and the couple were surprised to see Morrigan smile at his joy.

Her smile faded and was replaced with her familiar scowl as she saw Eleanor and Alistair grow closer to her. She folded her arms, "No further, please." They slowed their pace, "One more step and I leave. For good this time." They stopped in their tracks.

"Hello to you too Morrigan," said Alistair sarcastically. Eleanor shot him a glare and mumbled, "Not now," to him, scolding him and reminding him why they were there.

"I assume you know what this is," said Morrigan, pointing to the Eluvian. "I have gone to great lengths to find and activate this portal. Give me reason and I use it, and you will not be able to follow."

Eleanor spoke then, "We're not here to harm you Morrigan."

Her face saddened momentarily, "I did not think you had. So tell me, why _are _you here?"

"We need your help," Eleanor looked at Alistair and he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I – that night, you conceived his child straight away. It's been years and we've had no luck. We know why we can't conceive and I know why you could. So please, I am _begging_ you. Help us have a child. Surely the ritual would work on us like it did for you."

Morrigan regarded the couple before her carefully. "I must say, _this _I did not expect. I do not know if I _can _help you Eleanor. Believe me, if I could, I would. You were…far better to me than I ever expected or deserved." She turned her back to them, seemingly in thought.

Surprisingly, Alistair stepped forward. "Morrigan, I know we were never on good terms, and I don't expect us to be now. But I know you have a solution. The only question is, will you help us? Or will you sit back and watch as the woman you called friend, the woman whose life you saved, suffers forever when you have the thing that can help her?"

The mage turned around and regarded Alistair, her eyes betraying her sadness. "I cannot tarry longer. The time has come for me to go."

"No! You can't leave, not yet! Not like this! Are you so heartless that you would leave like this?" Eleanor tried to lunge at the mage, but Alistair held her back. She collapsed into him, her anger turning into anguish. _My final hope. Gone. _She sobbed loudly, not caring that the others heard.

Morrigan indicated to an object next to the Eluvian, "I have one last thing for you before I leave: a gift. The Dalish book is there, and there is something you will find of great interest. Now my friends, I must go. Goodbye." Before anyone could object, Morrigan had activated the portal and walked through, leaving no trace of her presence but her small camp and the book.

Ariane ran up and retrieved her book, cradling it to her chest, "Oh, the Keeper will be so happy." An envelope fell out of the book, which she picked up. "Huh, it's addressed to you," she said, holding the envelope out to Eleanor and Alistair. Eleanor's sobs quietened, replaced by small confused squeaks. She scrambled out of Alistair's arms and ran to Araine, snatching the envelope out of her hand.

She sat on the steps of the Eluvian, Alistair joining her. Together, they opened and read it.

_If you are reading this, then it means that you have found me. I am sorry if you are disappointed after our encounter, but I had only a small amount of time to use the Eluvian and waiting for your arrival has reduced that amount even further. _

_I will be blunt. I cannot tell you my plans. This is just how it must be, and even if I could, I would not know where to begin. _

The writing on the page seemed to trail off, ink blotting the parchment, as if the writer was debating whether or not to scribble something out.

_I can tell you this. The child is safe and beyond your reach. All you need know is that the child is an innocent. He knows nothing of the destiny that awaits him. I must leave and prepare the child for what is to come. Such preparation requires time and power. I must have both if I am to be successful. More than this, I dare not say, even to you. _

_I would like as well, to provide you with a warning. Beware of Flemeth. Hunt her if you can. My mother has tricked her way past death before and no doubt she will try and do it again. I thought I knew what Flemeth planned. I thought what she craved was immortality. And yet I was wrong, so very wrong. She is no blood mage, no abomination, she is not even truly human. The ritual was but a means to an end, a herald for what is to come. Change is coming to the world. Many fear change and will fight it with every fibre of their being. But sometimes, change is what they need most. Sometimes change is what sets them free. _

_I'm afraid I cannot offer you much more in the way of answers. I have told you as much as I can, perhaps more than I should. Know this my friend, I will never forget the kindness you showed me, even after what I did. I have included a parting gift for you and I hope you will accept it as a sign of my gratitude. I believe this is what you seek, why you sent the Antivan after me –yes, I am well aware that he was tracking me. If it is not, I highly recommend you use it anyway, despite Alistair's prejudices. You will both thank me later. _

_We will not meet again my friend. Goodbye and live well. _

_Morrigan._


	8. Chapter 8

They stared in shock at the letter in Eleanor's hands, tears slowly trailing down her cheeks.

"I have…a son?" stammered Alistair. "A son…" He sat frozen, processing this new information. _A son? I…have a son? All these years I wondered about that child – my child. My _son_. Who I'll never see. That's good, I suppose. It means Eleanor and I can worry about having our own child. But…what if Morrigan plans to try and claim the throne through my child…? Shit, would she do that? Probably, though wouldn't she have tried something by now? Maker, I'm so confused!_

Eleanor checked the envelope and found a tattered piece of parchment inside. It looked like it had once belonged in a grimoire, but had clearly been ripped from its original home. On it was a spell written in flowing handwriting and around it were notes, clearly added after the grimoire was first written. She read the spell,but was no less confused. "Alistair," she called. He focused slightly, asking what was wrong. "Do you recognise any of this?"

He took the page from her hand and read it. "These drawings seem familiar; they were drawn on the floor. Hmmm…I think I heard her muttering something that sounded like this incantation as well. As for the rest though, I don't know. It's probably a variant of her original ritual."

"Perhaps I could take a look at it?" chimed a familiar annoying voice. Eleanor and Alistair looked up: Finn. They'd completely forgotten he was there.

Eleanor practically ripped the parchment from Alistair's hand, "You can understand this?" She thrust the paper in his face, impatient and eager.

"Well not if you do that," he joked. He took the parchment from her and read it carefully. Eleanor paced anxiously as he read, eager for an answer. Eventually he spoke, "Hmmm, it appears to be some sort of powerful blood spell that… oh no, you can't use this." He tried to hand the paper back to Eleanor, but her and Alistair said, "Keep reading." Eleanor looked at Alistair, surprised; while it was obvious how much she wanted this, she hadn't realised how eager he was as well.

Finn sighed, "Fine. It seems the spell is…wait, that can't be right."

Annoyed and frustrated, Eleanor slapped the mage around the face. "Just spit it out already!" Alistair put a hand on her shoulder and sent her a chastising look. "Sorry, just…please, what is it"

"Well, this can't be right, but it seems to be an...extremely potent _fertility_ spell."

Eleanor's face lit up, "A…fertility spell?"

"Yes, but that can't be right…"

"No! It is!" she said excitedly. "Would…any mage be able to read this?"

"Any mage with proper magical training, yes, although what sane Circle mage would do _this?_"

An idea struck Eleanor, "What about a Dalish mage? Say, a Keeper's First?"

Finn stroked his chin in thought, "You know, I don't know. Ariane?"

They all looked at the elf expectantly. "In theory, I suppose so. The Keeper teaches their First everything they need to know, including elvish and other old languages. Though, like Finn said, I don't know who would agree to do this, if it is indeed a blood spell."

"No, of course…" said Eleanor absentmindedly. After a while she suddenly said, "Well, it has been a pleasure to travel with the both of you, but I'm afraid we must take our leave. Teagan will be sorely missing us and we have business to attend to." She put the spell and letter back in the envelope and placed it in her breast pocket for safety. She patted her hip and Smelly bound up to her, waiting diligently at her heel. "Alistair, shall we?" she asked, holding out her hand for him. He took it gladly, saying his goodbyes to Ariane and Finn as they left the Nest.

"Who have you got in mind?" he asked when they were leaving the Dragonbone Wastes. "I know you do, because you have that look that says _I know something you don't know _on your face."

She smiled up at him, "Remember Zevran's wife, Nina?"

Alistair's mind tried to put the two pieces of information together. "Yeeesss…?"

Eleanor sighed, "She's a blood mage Alistair. Probably no longer a practising one, but she's not afraid to dabble from what Zevran's told us. And she was a First, so she should be able to read the spell."

The light finally turned on in Alistair's head. "Oh! But, what if she says no? What if _Zevran _says no? Isn't she pregnant?"

"Well I can wait until she's healthy enough to do it, or even find someone else."

He sighed slightly. _There's no swaying her. I guess we'll have to see how this plays out. _"Come on love, let's get back. I don't know about you, but I did not miss sleeping on the floor."

* * *

"Your majesties! Oh thank the Maker! You're back!"

"Of course we are uncle. Did you honestly doubt us?" joked Alistair. He let the servants take his and Eleanor's bags and asked for food to me made for them. Both of them were starving, the majority of their food long since eaten. They didn't stop to talk, much to Teagan's displeasure and instead practically ran to the study.

Once in there, Eleanor fumbled trying to get a sheet of parchment and quill. Eventually Alistair took over, her hands too shaky with excitement and anxiety to write. When he was done writing, he sealed the letter with their royal seal and gave it to a servant with the instructions that, "It must be delivered as soon as possible. It's urgent." As soon as the servant had scurried away he closed the door to the study and scooped up his wife in his arms, spinning her around happily.

A knock on the door caused Alistair to almost drop her and a squeal of fear and surprise to escape from Eleanor's lips.

_Ella? I got your letter, _shouted a voice through the door.

"Zevran?" she asked, confused. "But…we only just sent it!"

_What? May I come in instead of talking through the door?_

Eleanor ran to the door and opened it eagerly. In front of her stood the tanned elf, his facial tattoo crinkled due to his broad smile. She hugged him hard, squeezing tighter than she realised. He choked, finding it hard to breathe, "Not so tight Ella. I need to breathe!" She let go abruptly, her cheeks blushing from embarrassment. "Maker, you're _still _doing that? What happened to the powerful slayer of dragons?"

"She still slays them, just not as often," she joked. She pulled him into the room, "Come in, sit." He did as instructed, a hooded figure following closely behind him.

Eleanor and Alistair followed them with their eyes, then looked at Zevran expectantly. "Oh, my apologies. Cara, you can take your cloak off, it's ok." The figure did as he said. It was a woman, in particular a female elf. She had raven black hair that fell in ringlets around her face and striking green eyes...and a large baby bump.

"You're Nina, aren't you?" asked Eleanor. She held out her hand to the elf, "It's a pleasure to finally meet. Zevran told me all about you in his last letter. Do you need anything? A drink? Food? Anything, you name it."

Hesitantly, Nina took her hand and shook it. "No, thank you. It's nice to meet the two of you. Ma'vhenan speaks highly of you. Though I must ask, what is it you wish of him? Surely he has done plenty already."

"Nina," he scolded under his breath.

"No, it's alright. She has every right to question us." Alistair opened his no-so-secret cabinet built in his desk and retrieved a bottle of Antivan brandy, holding it up for Zevran to see and smiling at the grin of approval from the elf. He poured the elf a glass and handed it to him, then poured one more for his wife; he still didn't understand how she could drink the stuff, though he knew that travelling with Zevran had helped her acquire a taste for it. "I must say, I don't know how you got here so fast. We literally _just _gave your letter to the servant to be delivered to you."

Zevran sipped at his brandy, "So you didn't send this?" He held out an envelope to Alistair. He read the letter inside, shook his head, then gave the it to Eleanor. She too shook her head. "Huh, how peculiar. Well, we're here now, and it seems you wanted us here anyway, no?"

Eleanor pulled out a similar envelope from her breast pocket and handed it to Nina. "Can you read this spell?" The elf opened the envelope and read the spell.

"Well this doesn't seem too complex a spell, though I have done some powerful spells before, so perhaps it's merely my perception of it. I assume you know what this is," she said expectantly.

"We only know a little. The mage who translated it for us wouldn't tell us a lot, since it uses blood magic," answered Alistair.

"But you know its function?" she asked. They nodded. "Well it's obvious why you'd want to use it, though why such a powerful spell is needed, I do not know."

"We cannot have children because of our tainted blood. We've been searching for a way to conceive for years."

Nina nodded her understanding. "This spell would most certainly get you pregnant, even with your tainted blood. The blood used in this spell would be your own, so it will work even with the Taint running through your veins." Alistair's face paled. "What, didn't you know? Perhaps I should read the entire details of this spell to you." The couple nodded slowly.

_What else had Finn not told us?_

"It must be performed on a full moon and the spell will last for one lunar cycle – so full moon to full moon. There is a recipe for a potent fertility potion here, however, tweaks have been made to make it nigh impossible to fail. Your blood is mixed into the potion and you both drink the potion. There are a few other details here, glyphs to draw around the bed, cut patterns, but nothing here is difficult. The only difficulty here is whether or not you both feel comfortable using this spell. And of course, you need someone to do it." She paused for a second, realising why the letter had requested her presence as well and why they had given it to her to read. _Creators I'm stupid. _"I guess that's where I come in. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but as you can see, I'm in no state to be doing powerful spells. A spell like this would tax my body terribly and would probably kill my unborn child."

Zevran placed a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry amora, you don't have to do it."

She smiled sweetly at her husband, greatful for his concern. Seeing him like this, she couldn't imagine he was ever the man he described from his past. "I would if I was in a fit state to, but as it stands, I am not," she said to Eleanor and Alistair. The couple said nothing. They were leaning against a wall, seemingly finding it hard to stand. After a few minutes they had still not spoken. "Your majesties?" asked Nina warily

_Mierda, I think they're in shock. _"Ella? Alistair?" asked Zevran. When they said nothing, he set down his glass on the desk and walked over to them. He placed a cautious hand on Alistair's shoulder and shook him gently. His eyes focused on the elf, boring into him and speaking the words he couldn't bring himself to say. _I don't know if I can do this, but I have to for her._

"I think you need a drink my friend." Zevran helped Alistair to a chair and rummaged around in his drinks cabinet for something strong. He uncorked the bottle and handed it to Alistair, knowing there was no point in giving him a glass since it would quickly be gone.

_He looks terrified, _thought Eleanor. _He doesn't want to do it. I knew this would happen, as did Morrigan. Although, I don't blame him. _She pushed herself away from the wall and joined Alistair, crouching in front of him. "Alistair…please tell me what you're thinking. Out loud."

He looked at his wife, her wide eyes gazing up at him hopefully. _I don't want to break her heart and crush her dreams, not when we're so close. _"I'm scared – no, terrified. You know how I feel about blood magic and…it's hard for me to do this." The hope in her eyes began to fade. "But," he said, glad to see the sparkle of hope return, "I love you more than anything in the world and I want us to have a family." He sighed. _Maker, do I dare? _"I – if it means we can have children, I am willing to do the ritual."

_The things I do for you, _he thought. It wasn't that he minded, more that he was surprised at how open she had made him. He'd come a long way from the person he was nearly 7 years ago, the person who argued with Eleanor about letting Isolde give her life to save her son.

"Really?" asked Eleanor, disbelief heavily lacing her voice. He nodded, causing the tears that had begun to well up in her eyes to break free. She sprung up and flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "Thank you," she whispered to him.

"If I might interrupt," interjected an apologetic voice. "Abelas, I'm sorry to ruin this moment, but you are still lacking someone to do this spell." Nina looked at them like they were idiots. She placed her hands on her stomach to emphasise her point to them.

Eleanor's grip slackened. _I'm such an idiot! Why do get so carried away? _

"We were hoping," replied Alistair, his arms keeping Eleanor in place, "that perhaps once you have had your child and are well enough, you would consider helping us." Eleanor looked at him surprised, then reiterated what he said absentmindedly. She hadn't been expecting him to step in like that, yet it seemed that he really was serious about going through with the spell.

Nina looked between the two of them, then to Zevran, pleading him with her eyes for help. He remained casually sipping his brandy, completely relaxed, thought his face screamed _I'm sorry_. "It's up to you amora," he said in between sips.

She ran her hands through her hair, undecided. "I – I don't know. I need some time to think about this."


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry if this seems to be a little slower/shitter than earlier on. It's been written in bits and pieces and I've struggled a little to finish it. Hopefully it isn't _too _bad. _

* * *

"Tell me again why we're stopping here," asked Nina, frustrated. They were going to be stuck in this stupid palace for Creators-knows how long and it seemed there was little she could say to get out of there.

Zevran sighed, "We discussed this. You aren't in a fit state for travel right now and Eleanor and Alistair have kindly said we can stay here for as long as needed." He stroked her hair comfortingly. The last thing he wanted was for her to get upset, but she was being stubborn. She hadn't liked the idea of leaving the safety of their little sanctuary in Antiva, but he could not ignore the cry for help from his friends.

Nina curled up into Zevran's side, being mindful of her belly, and gave up with a sigh. There was no use arguing because even she knew she shouldn't be travelling, although her own stubbornness wouldn't let her acknowledge that out loud.

"I just don't understand why these shems," Zevran's face scrunched up at the derogatory term, "abelas, why your _friends_ need me so desperately. Surely they could just get anyone to do this spell of theirs. They're the King and Queen. They could ask any mage to do it."

"Cara, it is _because _they are the King and Queen that they can't just ask anyone to do it. This is a rather delicate matter for them. The fact that they trust you enough to ask you speaks very highly of you."

She looked at him incredulously, "Speaks highly of me, or of you? They would not know me if it we're for you, da'len."

"Hush now, enough of your technicalities," joked Zevran playfully.

* * *

"Maker, what happened in here?"

Alistair stood in the doorway of their bathroom, staring at the pool of white around the bath. It looked like molten lyrium, as did the water in the bath. A familiar red head emerged from the water, wiping the water from her eyes so she could see. Alistair ginned at his wife, glad to see her looking like herself again.

"Care to join me?" she asked seductively.

He dumped his towel with hers on a stool and joined her in the bathtub. "It's not like I wanted to get clean anyway," he joked. Eleanor began moving towards him, as if to straddle him, but he sank under the water at the last minute, leaving her pouting at the spot he had just been. An ominous black pool began spreading through the silvery water, making Eleanor back away to the other side of the bath. She squealed loudly as a large figure rose out of the water, realising afterwards that is was only Alistair. Like her, his hair was back to normal, the temporary colouring now completely gone, much to their relief.

"Much better," said Alistair. He cradled Eleanor's face in his hand, taking in the familiar sight of his wife with her _proper _hair colour. The sight of her red hair sparked a thought in his mind. "You know, there's a very good chance any child we have will be ginger," he joked, grinning.

"First we have to _have_ a child Alistair. Then we can joke about it turning out ginger. Though, given your 'strawberry blonde' and my red, it's chances aren't looking too good."

Alistair placed a hand over his heart in mock injury, "What do you mean 'strawberry blonde'? Are you trying to say I'm lying to myself about being ginger?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, my King," drawled Eleanor seductively, pulling him closer to her and kissing him tenderly. "Come, my love," she murmured against his lips, "let's get out of this bath. We won't get clean in here anytime soon and I'd much rather get dirty on a more stable surface."

A low growl vibrated against her lips before she was swept out of the tub and bathroom, and into the bedroom. A shiver of excitement ran through her as the anticipation of what was to come flooded her thoughts. It had been a while since they had had real privacy for love-making and Alistair would no doubt make use of that.

He did not disappoint. While he did not always take the lead in court, he most certainly did in the bedroom and Eleanor loved it. He pushed her onto the bed and stood over her, taking in the glorious sight of her naked body. "Maker, I am a lucky man," he breathed, his voice full of adoration, but his eyes black with lust.

"You've been saying that for years love," laughed Eleanor.

"And I will keep saying it for as long as it's true," he said, drawing her close. He pulled her to him and kissed her ardently, sweetly, as if it was the first time he had kissed her. Though time had taken its toll on them physically, it had done nothing but strengthen their love for one another.

Eleanor moaned contently into Alistair's mouth, granting his tongue entrance and beginning their familiar duel for dominance, one which Eleanor quickly lost as Alistair's hands began roaming over her naked flesh.

A quiet knock on the door momentarily stilled his hands, a string of curses escaping his lips in a growl. "Not now Teagan! We're a little busy right now so kindly leave us alone!" shouted Alistair. _Not now, not now. _

_Forgive me lethallin. I'll come back later, _apologised a small voice through the door.

"Wait!" shouted Eleanor. Before Alistair could object she had pushed herself out from underneath him and shot to the door, apparently oblivious to her lack of clothing. "Nina, wait!" She stood in the doorway, stark naked with water dripping off her skin, calling after the elf.

Nina turned around, her gaze falling to the ground as soon as she saw Eleanor. "Abelas, I did not mean to interrupt. I'll come back later." She turned to leave, but a hand on her arm stopped her and tried to turn her back.

"Please, I insist. Let me put my robe on and we can talk." Nina allowed herself to be led to the Royal bedchamber by the naked Queen. Much to her relief, Alistair was wearing loose fitting trousers when they entered the room. He appeared to be rather uncomfortable with her in the room, though that was most definitely due to her interruption and his still hard member, and not due to a dislike of her. "Sorry about all this. You have superb timing," joked Eleanor, trying to make the elf more comfortable. "So…you wanted to talk to us?" she prompted.

Nina looked at the two of them, both now somewhat dressed. "Oh, right. I have reached a decision. Once I have had my child and once I am well enough and back to full health, I will help you. But you must understand this will not be for another…six months or so. After all, I should have my child in these coming weeks, and it will take me quite a few months to recover…Oh, abelas, did I say something wrong?"

Eleanor smiled happily at the mage, her eyes brimming with tears. Instead of answering she hugged the mage, being careful not to squeeze too tight. Nina stood awkwardly, not sure what to do; she eventually wrapped her arms around the crying woman and patted her back comfortingly. After a while Eleanor's sobs of joy died down and she pulled away to look at the elf, "Ma serannas lethallan. Truly, you have no idea how much this means to us."

* * *

"Your grace, this is most irregular," urged Teagan.

Eleanor kept walking, ignoring his protests. "Irregular, but not unheard of," she said, her pace not slowing. "They will have the guest chambers, the ones just down the corridor from mine and Alistair's room, and this is the last we will speak of this," she stopped in front of him, her arms crossed and her face stern, "Do you understand?"

Teagan opened his mouth as if to protest, but said nothing, choosing instead to simply nod and say, "Yes your grace."

* * *

The palace was full of whispers. It had been for days and it was starting to bother him. At first he has simply ignored it, pretended it wasn't there, but as time went on it got harder and harder to ignore them. The servants were gossiping behind his and his wife's backs when they thought they couldn't hear them; the nobles were sharpening their metaphorical blades to stab in their backs; even Teagan had caught wind of the rumours and seemed to believe they may be true, since his behaviour towards them had changed in the last few days.

Eleanor had heard them as well. It was obvious. Their life – in all aspects – was on track again, yet since the whispers had started, she'd spent more and more time in the training yard, letting out her anger on the poor wooden dummies. Unfortunately, this did nothing to help the rumours. Everyone in the palace knew that if the Queen was sparring, to leave her be. Everyone expect Zevran, who insisted on sparring with her instead of letting her go through the entire palacc's supply of training dummies.

Ignoring the whispers behind him as he walked through the palace, Alistair went to the throne room for the monthly gathering of nobles. Eleanor was already there, waiting for him, as were Teagan and the attending nobles. He took his seat at the head of the table and addressed the group, "Sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we get down to business?"

A noble further down the table mumbled something under his breath. Alistair ignored him, knowing it was some remark he didn't want to hear, but his wife's head snapped to the man, daggers in her eyes. "I'm sorry messere, I didn't quite catch that," she smiled sweetly at him. "Could you please repeat that for me? For all of us? Nice and loud please."

The man fidgeted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "I – I meant nothing by it your grace," he stammered, reluctant to repeat his words.

Eleanor's smile vanished, "Meant nothing by what?" she asked politely, a hidden venom lacing her voice. Her muscles tensed, as if readying herself to pounce.

"Suggesting that his majesty was late because he was being…entertained by your elven guests," he mumbled.

Quick as a flash, Eleanor shot from her seat and grabbed the noble by the throat from behind. "Say that again," she growled in his ear, "louder."

"I was suggesting that his majesty was late because he was being distracted by the elven whores you insist on keeping here as your 'guests'," he said loudly, emboldened by his anger at both royals. The hand around his throat tensed minutely, making it harder for him to breathe. He suddenly became very aware of a second, sharper sensation dangerously close to his lower regions. He risked a glance down and saw the glint of a dagger in Eleanor's other hand.

"I suggest, Bann Conrad, that if you wish to retain you title, amongst other things," she said, trailing the dagger down to emphasise her point, "you should keep your opinions to yourself and stop helping the spread of vicious rumours." As quick as she had grabbed him, Eleanor removed her hand and sheathed her dagger, then returned to her seat as if nothing had happened. Alistair stared at her dumbstruck for a second, before carrying on with the meeting as normal.

When all the nobles had left he looked at his wife expectantly, waiting for an explanation for her behaviour. Eventually she realised what he was waiting for and said, "What? He annoyed me, spreading nasty rumours about us. Horrible little man."

Alistair chuckled and kissed her forehead, "Don't ever change love."


	10. Chapter 10

_I struggled to write this chapter so please let me know what you thought of it. It's on a topic I have minimal knowledge on, so I had no idea how to make it believable. Hopefully it's not terrible. Also, sorry it's so short. Again, I struggled to write this chapter. Hopefully future chapters will be one's I'm happier with. _

* * *

Zevran paced in front of her door, raking his fingers through his hair anxiously. "I should be in there right now," he said, still pacing, "why won't they let me in?" A servant pushed past him carrying a fresh pile of towels. He tried to sneak in behind them, but the door was slammed in his face before he could get through it. He growled in frustration. _I can't even sneak properly right now! Coño!_

"Calm down Zevran. Getting frustrated won't get you in there any faster. They'll let you in soon, I'm sure," soothed Eleanor. Her words fell on deaf ears as Zevran merely returned to his pacing. She sighed and rested her head against Alistair's chest, sick of watching the elf's pacing.

"They're your servants. Tell them to let me in!" he insisted.

It was Alistair's turn to sigh this time. "Zevran, even if I wanted to start demanding them to do things, they still wouldn't let you in. Nina made us promise to keep you out until she had the door opened for you and right now I'm gonna listen to the shouty pregnant lady who can throw a fireball at me if I piss her off, not you."

"Actually, she'd more likely fry your manhood with a lightning bolt," he corrected absentmindedly. A cry from behind the door reminded him of his mission, his face twisting in agony.

"She's fine Zevran, don't worry."

Another cry sounded from behind the door, this one louder and more pained.

"Enough! I'm going in," he said, his hand out to open the door. To his surprise, it opened easily. Another cry sounded, followed by a high pitched wail. Zevran stood in the doorway, dumbstruck. Before him stood a healer, fussing over a tiny, crying, bloody bundle and on the bed lay his exhausted wife being attended to by a number of servants. The servants looked between the two elves, clearly confused as to what they should do. From the bed a weary voice said, "Ma'vhenan," a hand reaching out towards him. The healer instructed the servants to go and fetch more fresh towels and sheets, leaving the two elves and the healer alone with the crying bundle. He then handed the now clean bundle to Nina, who smiled up at Zevran and watched him slowly walk towards her. He seemed unaware that his feet had been moving, given the bewildered expression on his face when he suddenly found himself right next to his tired wife and his new-born baby.

"I'll be just outside if you need anything," said the healer before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Outside, they could hear him talking to Eleanor and Alistair, but they didn't care. All that mattered was the precious bundle in Nina's arms.

He couldn't move, couldn't speak. It had really happened. He had become a father.

"Da'vhenan?" asked Nina worried. He had been staring wide-eyed for a worrying amount of time and she was worried that he had finally been sent to his whit's end and was going to bolt at any second. But he didn't. Instead, he blinked a few times before slowly reaching out to the bundle. A tiny fist reached out and grasped at his fingers, clutching onto him tightly. A broad smile slowly spread across his face, lighting up his features and making the corners of his eyes crinkle. Eyes never leaving the babe in his wife's arms, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked properly at his child.

_A child! _My _child! Mierda, how strange! _Gently, he reached out and stroked the feather-soft blonde wisps of hair on the top of the child's head. "Mi querido," he whispered softly, his voice full of wonder. He heard a small breathy giggle from next to him and looked puzzled at Nina, who was smiling tenderly at him, tears trickling down her cheeks slowly. Zevran wiped them away with the pad of this thumb before kissing where he had wiped the tears. "I'm so proud of you cara," he mumbled against her skin, "she's beautiful. The best of both of us, I think."

Nina smile down at the baby in her arms and nodded, "I think you may be right ma sa'lath." A pair of feline, green eyes finally opened and stared up at her. They flicked between hers and Zevran's faces, mesmerised by the novelty of their features.

"Messere,"interrupted a voice. The elves looked up to see the healer back in the room, carrying the towels he'd asked the servants to fetch. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to check on her and the baby."

Reluctantly, Zevran moved off the bed, "Of course." To the annoyance of the healer, he sat on the nearby armchair instead of leaving the room. Shaking his head, the healer began checking over Nina and the baby.

* * *

"I still can't believe it. Zevran Aranai, ex-Crow and mighty assassin, is a father. I have to say, I never thought in a _million_ years that I would see this happen. _Ever_." Eleanor sank further down, so her head rested on Alistair's lap. She looked up at him, "He's come a long way from the sex-crazed pervert we met all those years ago, hasn't he?"

"Oh I don't know," said Alistair, "I suspect he's still sex-crazed, only how he's married and has a child." The two of them laughed at the strangeness of it all.

The healer came back out of their room again, causing Eleanor to sit bolt upright. "Well?" she asked.

"They're both fine. She needs rest, but she is healthy, as is the baby," he said.

Eleanor and Alistair sighed in relief, "Thank you."

"If anything unusual arises, do not hesitate to call me your majesties." They agreed, thanked him, then quietly went to check on Zevran and Nina. The sight they saw shocked them: Nina was fast asleep, sprawled out on the bed with the sheets placed over her, presumably by Zevran; in a chair next to the bed was Zevran, cradling his new-born baby in his arms. The baby had its tiny hand wrapped around his finger, the elf cooing tenderly at the babe in Antivan.

"Well I never," mumbled Eleanor.

Zevran looked up surprised, an awkward grin on his face. "It is a little strange, isn't it," he joked quietly. The baby in his arms grew discontented at his lack of attention, "Sorry niña," he repositioned her so she could see their visitors, "Eleanor, Alistair, I would like you to meet Katia."


	11. Chapter 11

"You know she'll most likely be a mage, right?"

Zevran looked up from the sleeping bundle in his arms to find Nina watching him curiously. "It's not certain," he said simply.

Carefully, Nina sat up and leaned on her elbow, "It is highly likely though." She continued watching him, gauging his reaction. _It could still happen. She's so young she wouldn't remember him. He still has time to leave, if he wanted to. _

"Mi amor, if you're trying to scare me, it isn't working." He looked down at Katia and smiled, "I have everything I need right here," he looked back up at Nina, "in this room. I'm not leaving either of you."

Nina struggled to her feet, not used to walking without the extra weight, and moved so she was sat opposite the other elf. They studied each other's faces, trying to figure out what was going through the other's mind.

"We'd have to be on the run a lot. Or maybe even find a clan of Dalish elves. After all, the Chantry has no power over mages there," said Nina eventually. She watched Zevran's face as she spoke, looking for any signs of betraying emotions, a twitch, a gulp, anything.

She found none. Instead, he simply smiled again, "And? We're already on the run most of the time. The Crows want us dead. We're lucky you're Dalish, otherwise the Templars would have found you by now and tried to lock you up in the Circle, not that I'd let them of course." His smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of earnest sincerity, "Nina, I don't care if we have to stay on the move. As long as we're together, that's all that matters to me."

Nina stared at him incredulously, tears welling in her eyes and threatening to spill over. "You really are serious, aren't you?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat. She placed a hand over her mouth as if to stop herself from tipping, but it did nothing to help, a flood of emotion releasing in a choked sob. Zevran rose, tucked Katia in her cot, then swiftly sat next to Nina and pulled her into his arms where she cried on his shoulder.

"I'm being silly," she mumbled, "I'm just very hormonal right now." She continued rambling while Zevran rocked her gently, much like he had done earlier with Katia, cooing and shushing her until she quieted. Eventually she lifted her head to look into his eyes. She laid a hand on his cheek, smiling though her tears. "I want to stop running. I never really wanted a life on the run, but I had to choose it. I don't want it for Katia though. She deserves so much more. She deserves the chance to make friends, to have people around her who love her, but – " She stopped midsentence, as if reluctant to finish. _But you__ would never settle. _She hid her face in the crook of his shoulder, refusing to let him see her cry again.

Zevran gently moved her away, so he could look at her. "But…what?" he asked.

"But, would you settle? Would you be able to live in one place, say, with the Dalish? Would you live with me?"

He looked into his wife's eyes and saw the worry and fear in them. _She's __still __terrified I'm going to leave . _ He sighed, almost ashamed of himself. _Of course she is. She knows everything about my past, including my tendency to flit from person to person. _He took her hands in his. "Cara, I am not the man I was. Yes, I used to sleep with anything that moved, but I am not that man anymore. It is you that I love, and our child, and I want you to be happy. If you wish to re-join the Dalish, then we shall re-join the Dalish. I go where you go." He squeezed her hands comfortingly, "And truth be told, it would be much better for Katia if we have somewhere stable to live, rather than being on the run. It screws people up, I can tell you." He winked teasingly, making Nina giggle a little.

"You _are_ a few Halla short of a herd," joked Nina, smiling at the mock-hurt on his face.

* * *

He was going to regret asking this, he knew it. But he had to ask. Everyone in the palace was talking about it now. He had to clear this up once and for all.

Her door was already open. He peered inside and found her reading a book in front of the fire, a glass of brandy next to her, which she sipped at occasionally.

"It's rude to linger in people's doorways, you know," she said, her eyes never leaving her book.

Teagan sighed and stepped into the room. "I was about to knock," he said.

"Uh-huh," said Eleanor, taking another sip of brandy. She placed the leather bookmark in her book and set it down. "What can I do for you Teagan?" she asked.

"I'm here about your elven friends," Eleanor sighed at this, rolling her eyes at him. He knew this was the reaction he would get. "I know you're sick of me asking, but I really do need to know how long they will be stopping with us."

Eleanor set her glass down and refilled it. Why could he not let this go? "I've already told you, they're staying here for a while. We have business with them."

"But when will this 'business' of yours be finished? You've already heard what people are saying about you – "

"Enough," said Eleanor loudly. "They will be staying here for as long as our business with them continues, which will be for a few more months at least. When our business is concluded they will leave, but not until then. Understood?" She looked at Teagan expectantly, waiting for an answer.

He began to nod. He never got any further with this questioning and he doubted he would. She was a stubborn woman, and her anger only served to fuel that stubbornness. Somehow, he found his nod turning into a shake of disagreement. "No," he said, the word tumbling from his lips before he could stop ot. _What am I doing? _he thought.

_Putting your foot down, that's what!_

Eleanor looked at him perplexed. "No?" she asked, clearly confused.

"No," he repeated, bolder this time. "You give me this exact same response every time and I won't stand for it anymore. Now stop all this secrecy and tell me what's going on!"

She stared open-mouthed at the red-head. _Where has this come from? _She looked incredulously at his hand, pointed accusingly at her. Eleanor put her glass down and stood up, squaring up to him. "Shut the door. Now," she said quietly, a threatening undertone lacing her voice.

Teagan gulped, suddenly regretting his choice of words. He turned around and shut the door. "Lock it," he heard from behind him. He did as instructed, then turned back to face Eleanor. She was pouring a second glass of brandy, her eyes fixed downwards. When she was done, she indicated for him to sit and held the drink out to him. "You're gonna need this with what I'm going to tell you," she said, suddenly sympathetic. _I suppose we have been rather secretive. We haven't even given him a flimsy cover story. _Teagan looked at her warily. She sighed, "It's not poisoned, I promise. Look," she took a sip before holding it back out to him, "it's fine."

He took the glass from her and sipped at the drink cautiously. "Why the sudden change of heart?" he asked, staring into his drink.

"I'm just as sick as you are of this incessant questioning. It's always the same question, the same response," she sighed, "Maybe it's time we let you in on what we're doing."

"Is that what this is then?" asked Teagan.

Eleanor grabbed her drink and took a long swig, preparing herself. "Yes."

And so she told him everything. She told him how miserable she had been, despite Alistair's constant support. She told him about their trip to the Dragonbone Wastes and Morrigan's letter. And lastly she told him about the ritual, about Zevran and Nina's presence in the castle, about her last hope at attaining her dream. When she was done, Teagan remained silent, taking longer sips of his brandy while processing all this new information.

"So let me see if I have this right," he said finally. "The elves are here because you asked for the assassin's help in finding your friend, who you found, and she gave you a spell which will enable you to have children, but you need a mage – "

"Technically a blood mage," corrected Eleanor.

"Sorry, you need a _blood_ mage to perform this spell, hence why the apostate is here. _But _you still can't do this spell yet because she's not long had her baby and so you have to wait until she is strong enough to perform this spell. Right?" Eleanor nodded. "And you thought this was a good idea?"

The warrior resisted the urge to slap him. _This is why we kept this from you, Mr Judgey. _"I never said it was a _good _idea, but it is our _only _idea," she said, exasperated. "Look, it's our only option that has a higher success rate than zero percent. This is – in theory – guaranteed to work. We have to try Teagan." She hoped that he believed her. He was often sceptical, especially when it came to risky decisions, but that was his job. That was why he was the King's advisor; he questioned the mad plans that were 'sure to work'.

"What about other your other options though?"

Eleanor scoffed, "You mean like me sleeping with someone else? Honestly Teagan, I thought you were clever. If I wanted to sleep with someone else I wouldn't have married Alistair. I'm not the kind of woman who can happily sleep with someone in order to achieve my own goals."

Teagan stared at the empty glass in his hand, "I suppose I hadn't thought about that."

"Yes, well…No harm done." _Yet, _she thought, suddenly remembering that she was only one half of the involved party in the night's tales. _Maker, I hope he's not mad at me._ Eleanor looked around the room, a sudden awkward silence filling the air. "Maker," she said, indicating to the candles around the room, "it's late." As if to prove her point, she yawned, stretching her arms and torso with a hearty groan. "Well, I'd better retire for the night. Good night Teagan."

Before he could speak she had picked up her book and left the room. He sat there dumbstruck, wondering what had caused her sudden disappearance.

Alistair wasn't in their room yet. _Good, _she thought, _that gives me time to figure out how I'm going to tell him about all of this. _

She changed into her nightdress, glad to remove her restricting clothing, got under the bed covers and returned to her book. She had only read a few more pages before Alistair turned up, a confused look on his face.

"Oh good, you're here. I was just speaking with Teagan a minute ago and he said something rather odd," he said, scratching his head.

"I'm sorry, I had to tell him. You're not mad are you?" blurted Eleanor, the words rushing from her mouth.

Alistair looked at her puzzled. "Why would I be mad? All he said to me was that you two were chatting and then you rushed off all of a sudden, claiming you were tired." A light turned on in his head, "Wait, what did you tell him?"

Eleanor played with her hands, wringing them over and over again. "I…kinda told him about…everything."

"What do you mean everything?" _What is she talking about?_

"I mean I told him about _everything_. About what we're doing and how we're doing it." She looked up from her hands, scared. "You're not mad, are you?"

Alistair came and joined her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head, "Of course not. You know, sometimes you really are stupid." Eleanor tried to protest, but he silenced her with a kiss. "I _meant_," he said, quickly correcting himself, "no I'm not mad. In fact, it makes our lives easier. I only didn't tell him because you asked me to keep it from him."

Eleanor laughed at herself. "Maybe I was a _little_ stupid," she admitted quietly.

"A little?" asked Alistair. Eleanor punched his arm playfully, then let her hand settle on his bicep. She stroked the muscle gently with her fingertip before trailing it along the line of his shirt until she reached the collar, which she began tugging at. He quickly got the message and pulled it off, along with his trousers, and climbed under the covers with her.

She quickly pounced on him, settling her weight over him so her flaming hair fell like curtains, covering both of their faces. She leaned down and kissed him tenderly, savouring his taste like it was a fine wine. "I take it I'm forgiven then," joked Alistair. Eleanor rolled her eyes and smiled, before returning her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. His hands trailed up her spine, eliciting muffled moans from her and causing her to buck under his touch, until they found her nightdress. He tugged at it expectantly, so she sat up and let him pull the nightdress over her head.

It was an unspoken rule they had: if they didn't have clothes on when they went to sleep, they weren't going to be sleeping straight away. That night was no exception. Alistair's hands roamed over Eleanor's naked body, entranced by the softness of her skin and how wonderful it felt under his palms. "So beautiful…" he said breathlessly. His eyes followed where his hands went, over her hips, up her sides, settling on her breasts. He watched smugly as she pushed her chest against his hands, eager for his touch. He happily obliged, squeezing and caressing her breasts, eliciting little gasps and moans with each touch.

Her hips ground slowly against his, fuelling the flames of her desire even more, her wetness rapidly becoming evident. Alistair groaned, tormented by her gyrations and evident arousal, and rolled Eleanor over, pinning her beneath him, his hips hovering teasingly over hers. He captured her lips with his, claiming her with a searing kiss, making her needy for his touch. After a few feeble attempts to make skin contact, Alistair gave Eleanor what she wanted and ground his hips against hers, his cock rubbing against her soaked lips. She moaned needily, pleading him in between kisses. Despite her pleas, he continued his torment. In protest, Eleanor grabbed hungrily at his buttocks, her nails biting into his flesh, causing him to hiss in pleasure and pain. He bit her lip in retaliation, so she drew her nails up his back, slowly, causing him to buck under her touch, shuddering in pleasure.

With that the control that he had left disappeared. "Minx…" he breathed, as he lined his hips up again and thrust into her, surprising her and making her gasp in pleasant, pleasured surprise. He watched her face for a second, entranced by the perfect O her mouth made, before locking his lips over hers and slowly moving inside of her. They moaned together, their sounds mingling and filling the room. Lips never leaving hers, Alistair hooked Eleanor's leg under his arm and lifted it onto his shoulder. The change in angle made her mewl in pleasure, eager for more. He happily obliged, setting a torturously slow, leisurely pace that had her toes curling and her hands grasping at the bed sheets.

They carried on this way, in pure ecstasy, for what felt like hours until, with a shudder that racked his entire body, Alistair let go and followed Eleanor into the blissful state of pleasure that dulled his senses and made it impossible to use his muscles. He collapsed on the bed next to Eleanor, unable to move properly, and used what little strength he had to pull her into his arms. She rested her head on his head, listening to his heart beat excitedly in his chest. They sighed contented, their appetite temporarily sated, though both of them knew that come morning the hunger would return and it would simply be a matter of time before they were tearing at each other's clothes again.

But that would wait. Sleep would come first, as it always did. Alistair kissed Eleanor's slightly sweaty hair and mumbled sleepily, "I love you." She looked up from his chest and found his lips, returning the sentiment and kissing him lazily, sleep already taking a claim on her. She welcomed it with open arms, falling asleep in the arms of the man she loved, eager for the next few months to pass as quickly as possible.

_Soon, _she thought. _Soon, this will be to make a child. Soon, this _will_ make a child. Soon…_


	12. Chapter 12

Things seemed a little easier from that point. With Teagan on their side, the rumours spreading around the palace were quickly quelled. A few days after talking to him, Eleanor noticed the servants no longer whispered behind their backs when they thought they couldn't hear. No longer were the words "elven whores" commonplace in the visiting nobles' vocabulary; instead, there was only blissful indifference and downcast eyes.

Life in the palace began returning to its old, happier state. So naturally, that's just when things decided to be thrown into turmoil again, and all it took were two words: "I'm ready."

"A-are you sure?" asked Eleanor, hopeful. _This is it!_

"Yes. I said I would tell you when I am ready and well, here I am." Nina watched amused as Eleanor's face played through a series of emotions at once: joy, surprise, shock, apprehension, disbelief. "I need to acquire a few items first," she continued, "and we'll have to wait for the next full moon which is in…four days."

Eleanor's eyes shot as wide, "F-four days? So soon?"

Nina eyed her curiously. "Yeeesss...I thought you _desperately_ wanted this."

"I do, _I do! _I just – I guess I'm used to waiting and now…Andraste's arse! _N__ow!" _Her legs seemed to turn to jelly then, giving out from underneath her. She put a hand out to support herself, leaning heavily against the wall. "Ok…ok," she repeated to herself like a mantra.

_It's finally going to happen. We're finally going to do this. Shit. _

Eleanor looked to the door, panicked. "I, erm…I need to – sorry." She quickly fled the room, leaving Nina standing there, alone and very confused.

"Shemlens," she muttered, shaking her head.

No one saw her for the rest of the day after that. Most people assumed she was with Alistair, so didn't think it odd that they didn't see her. Alistair had actually snuck off to the Alienage to check on the elves there, something Teagan still questioned, so he was oblivious to his wife's disappearance. The only person who noticed was Zevran. Eleanor usually came to check on him and Katia just after lunch, despite his protests that her visits were unnecessary, yet that day she had not visited. Nor had she visited after tea, or even supper. He asked around the palace staff, but everyone he asked gave him the same response: "She's with the King, isn't she?"

Worried, he decided to go looking for her. First, he tried her study: nothing. Next, he tried the lobrary: still nothing. He tried the gardens: empty. Next he went to the training yard: not there. Finally he tried her bedroom, but she was nowhere to be found.

He raked a hand through his hair, puzzled. _Where are you Ella? _A light breeze drifted across his neck then, making him shiver unexpectedly. He turned to see where the draft was coming from and found a window ajar. _Well _that _should be shut, _he thought. Curious, he went to the window, opened it, and poked his head through. It didn't take long for the wind to carry the faint sound of a woman singing to his ears. Checking no one was around he climbed through the window and scaled the palace wall until he reached the roof.

She was sat with her back to him, looking out over the city, singing quietly to herself. He approached her cautiously, making sure she heard his footsteps. Despite his efforts she seemed oblivious to him, looking startled when he gently placed a hand on her shoulder as a gesture of greeting and peace.

"Who – oh, it's you. Of course it is," she said, no longer surprised to see the elf. Of course it was him who'd found her. Everyone else was happy believing she was with Alistair. Only he knew her well enough to know that she didn't spend every waking moment with him. As much as she felt for the elves in the Alienage, she couldn't always bring herself to visit them, not after what she'd seen there.

Zevran sat down next to Eleanor and placed a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Who else would climb onto the roof to come and get you?" he asked jokingly. When she didn't even smile he said, "So what makes the Queen of Ferelden feel the desire to come and sing on the roof of her palace? I mean, sure the view is great, but do you really need to come up through the window to get here?"

"Oh I don't know," replied Eleanor, "I think the view alone is reason enough to come up here." She attempted a smile, but it failed miserably.

"Mi amiga, what's wrong?"

She sighed, giving in. She leaned into Zevran's arm, letting her body slump against him. "It's silly really. You'll laugh at me when I tell you," she said, stalling. Zevran sighed impatiently, "Fine. I'm scared, ok? The reality of what I'm going to be doing has finally hit me and I'm terrified."

Zevran pulled away so he could look at her. "Why?" he asked, "I thought this is what you wanted."

"It is! But – " she stopped midsentence, unsure of how to finish. Everyone had the same thing to say, including herself. She wanted this, Maker knows she did. But that didn't mean that she wasn't terrified. She had no idea how to be a mother. She was a fighter, a warrior, a slayer or Darkspawn and Dragons. But a mother? No, that wasn't her. How could it be? All she knew was bloodshed and war. Even her own childhood had been cut short by it and ever since then it was all she had known.

Well, _nearly_ all she had known. There was love as well. The murder of her family had thrust her into the world of war, but it had also thrust the love of her life, her husband, into her world. It had thrust many new friends into her world. And now it was thrusting a child into her world. Yet she had no idea how to accept it into her life.

"But," began Zevran, "you've spent so long wanting, that now it's finally within your grasp, you're terrified that it might not work, that it might not be what you thought it was. And you don't know what you'll do if it doesn't work. And you if it does work, you're terrified that you won't be a good parent because you have zero experience with a normal, happy childhood."

Eleanor looked up at the rogue. Even after all their years of friendship, he could still surprise her. "Yes," she said simply. In one sentence he had coherently summed up how she was feeling. "Although," she continued, "for the record, until my parents were killed, my childhood was pretty happy. Well, in retrospect it was."

"Ella, this is a perfectly natural response. However, given all we have all gone through to make this possible, it would be a shame to waste this chance, no? So, how about we climb back inside and pretend this didn't happen, yes?" He stood up, balancing with ease on the joining of the roof, and offered his hand to Eleanor.

She took it, glad of the help back down. Truth be told, she wasn't even entirely sure how she had gotten up there in the first place, agility never quite being her strong suit. Once back inside, Zevran kept his arm around her shoulders, as if making she didn't bolt again, and ushered her down the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. Spotting the cot in the corner, she quickly realised it was Zevran and Nina's room. "Why am I in here?" she asked.

"Because," said Zevran, leading her towards the cot, "I want to make you see that you shouldn't be afraid." He picked up the little elf, cooing softly in Antivan to her, "And because you didn't visit her today. She noticed, you know." Zevran kissed the top of her head before passing her over to Eleanor, who instinctively took her and cradled her in her arms, rocking her from side to side.

Her first reaction was one of panic. _No! Don't give her to me. Shit! Oh shit shit shit shit shit! _"Zevran, this isn't a good idea," she said quickly, trying to pass the child back to him. He refused with a simple shake of his head and the crossing of his arms.

Quickly realising he wasn't going to take Katia back until she calmed down, Eleanor brought the babe back to her chest and looked into her sleepy face, hoping for a revelation to hit her. She gazed hopefully into the elf's face. She had held her many times in the last few months, yet today she felt nervous, like she would drop her, or like she would break at the slightest touch. _Come on Eleanor, this isn't the first time you've held a child. Woman up! Soon this will be _your_ child in your arms. You can't chicken out and hide on the roof then._

Zevran watched anxiously as the red-head awkwardly held his child. It was obvious she was trying, but her body language clearly read 'uncomfortable'. But then something changed. Her gaze fell upon the gurgling figure and softened, relaxed. Her wide-eyed fear seemed to be replaced with motherly affection. And then she did something that shocked him: she started singing. Not her usual drunken ruckus, no, this was something sweet, something soothing. A lullaby. He listened, entralled, and smiled to himself. _You'll be fine Ella. _


	13. Chapter 13

"Shall we begin?"

Eleanor looked at Alistair and smiled weakly. The moment was finally here and she was terrified. Not that she didn't want to do it, but suddenly the prospect of having a blood spell cast on you was a little daunting, to say the least. He returned her smile, just as feebly, and they both nodded to the mage.

Nina nodded her recognition then said, "Lie down then. On the stretchers." The warriors did as instructed, neither one sure of what was to come. Over the last few days Nina had spent her time gathering what she needed for the spell, but they had been told to leave her to it. All they knew was what she had originally told them all those months ago.

Eleanor looked around the forest clearing. They were laid in the middle of the clearing, directly in the moonlight, on two stretchers, with a collection of items on the forest floor near them. Around them were symbols, drawn in the dirt, and candles, each one flickering in the forest breeze. Between her and Alistair were two chalices with clusters of herbs next to them.

Nina approached Eleanor first, unsheathing a small but sharp dagger as she walked. "This will hurt, but so is the way with blood magic." Eleanor shivered, unsure whether it was a result of her lack of clothing or the dagger in Nina's hand.

"Just start already."

The elf nodded, raised the dagger high and made the first cut. Eleanor winced at the sting, but held still and let the elf continue. Alistair watched, terrified, beside her, knowing that after the elf was done with his wife it would be his turn. The mage sliced through the Queen's skin, drawing intricate vein-like patterns across her body, chanting in Elven. When she was done she quickly retrieved a chalice and placed it next to the stretcher, so it sat underneath Eleanor's wrist and collected the blood trickling down her arm and hand.

She then moved over to Alistair and repeated the process, slicing and chanting, then retrieving the second chalice and placing it next to him like she did with Eleanor so his blood trickled into the cup. When both chalices were sufficiently full, Nina took them and began mixing the herbs for the potion. Every now and again she looked up at the couple, as if waiting for something to happen.

"Come on," she mumbled under her breath. As if answering her, a strange light began glowing around Eleanor and Alistair's bodies. They looked at each other startled, then at the mage. She showed no signs of panic, so they quickly began to relax, trusting her judgement on the situation.

"I'm going to need you to sit up so you can drink this when I tell you to," she said, pouring the potion into the chalices. The warriors sat up cautiously, surprised when they felt no pain, and looked at each other. To their surprise, their markings were completely healed, replaced with a network of silvery veins covering their bodies that were now glowing faintly. They tore their eyes away from each other to take the chalice Nina handed them and peered into it curiously, inspecting the potion inside.

Nina moved to stand inside a ring of glyphs, taking her dagger with her, then pointed to two larger rings. "Stand inside those," she instructed them, her blade glinting in the moonlight, their blood shining like rubies on it. Eleanor saw Alistair gulp before moving to where she pointed. She too swallowed nervously, wondering what else was in store for them. As soon as they entered the circles, the glyphs illuminated and beams of light connected all three circles, forming a triangle between them.

Alistair fidgeted nervously on the spot, disconcerted. He began trying to focus his energy to his core, in case his rusty Templar skills were needed to put a stop to things. He knew Eleanor wouldn't like it, but if it came to it, he would use them and stop the ritual.

"When I start chanting, drink."

The couple nodded their understanding and so the mage began.

Nina started chanting in elven again, a hand pointed at each person. As instructed, they downed the potion before they had chance to think about what they were doing.

The chanting grew louder. The lights grew brighter. The mage slashed at her wrists, her chanting now frantic.

The silvery veins on Eleanor and Alistair's skin began to glow brighter, first white, then growing darker until they became blood red. They began to worry, but were quickly distracted when Nina's chanting was cut off by a heart-wrenching scream. They tried to rush to help her, but she held up a bloody hand to them. Despite her protests they still tried to aid her, but found themselves unable to move. They watched helplessly as the mage struggled to her feet.

"It is done," she said weakly. Immediately, the lighted glyphs died out, along with the long-since forgotten candles.

Eleanor rushed to help the elf, fretting frantically over her, but the elf simply shook her off, "I'm fine, really." The mage began checking over the warrior, asking if she felt any different.

"I...I'm not sure. It's hard to explain," she said hesitantly. It was true. She felt…different, but she couldn't place why. She checked her hands and was surprised to see the magical veins had fully disappeared. She turned them over, fascinated by her once-again smooth, pale skin. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Alistair call her name, nor did she hear him come up behind her. She felt a hand place itself on her shoulder and jumped. The hand quickly removed itself, as if shocked by electricity.

Eleanor turned around and stared at the owner of the hand. Their eyes locked, the two of them staring each other down.

"I erm…there's one thing more to do, though perhaps you'd like me to leave first," interrupted a hesitant voice. The couple turned their stare to the elf, wondering why she had disturbed them.

"In order to properly activate the spell, you two need to…you know…" she said reluctantly, her cheeks beginning to burn. "It would be best over there, in the moonlight. Just to make sure, you know…"

The couple looked at where she suggested, then let their gaze return to the other. They stared at each other hungrily, their eyes black with lust, the reason for their lack of clothing suddenly becoming very obvious. Somewhere in the back of their minds, the couple realised what had felt different about them; inside of them there was a burning, insatiable desire that seemed unable to be quelled. They were vaguely aware of a small voice saying, "I'll leave you to it then," before it disappeared from the forest clearing.

Without realising they had moved, the two of them found themselves clinging to each other on the forest floor, locked together in the throes of passion. They moved frantically, their only thoughts ones of desire and lust, of their need to find completion in the other. They quickly found it, the King hilted fully inside of his Queen, grasping onto her as if to anchor himself to the ground lest he float away. He stayed inside her afterwards, both of them reluctant to move, panting heavily, their sweat dripping off their skin and onto the dirt beneath them.

When the shock of their pleasure subsided, they blinked a few times to clear their vision, unsure of what had just happened – beside the obvious. They stood up, brushing the dirt off themselves and looked at each other puzzled. "So erm… that was…different," coughed Alistair, blushing profusely. That was most definitely out of character, for the both of them. Sure, they often shared each other's company, and yes, it wasn't always at the most appropriate of moments, but _this? This _was a first.

"Yes…different," said Eleanor breathlessly. She looked around and found a pile of basic clothing left at the edge of the clearing. She quickly hurried over to the pile and found a basic cotton dress, which she hastily put on.

"Leave it," she heard be growled in her ear. She turned her head and found Alistair behind her, his hands trying to pull off the dress, his arousal poking into her rear. She breathed his name wantonly, before repeating it again, clearer this time.

"Alistair! Stop this!" she practically shouted. His hands stilled, his pupils returning to a normal size. "Maybe," she said slowly, "it would be a good idea for you to put these trousers on, before we try and fuck each other in the dirt again."

He nodded, took the trousers and put them on. In his mind though he was torn. On one hand, the normal him was saying, _Yes good idea. If you're going to have sex at least get back to the palace first. _On the other hand though, the lust-driven side was saying, _But…sex? Come on Alistair, you know you want to. I can prove it to you if you like. Just look down._

The journey back to the palace took longer than normal that night. They eventually arrived at noon the next day, much to the relief of Teagan. "Thank the Maker you're back! I was worried. Your elven friends refused to tell me where you were," he said, trying to keep up with their brisk pace. He realised quickly they were headed upstairs, "Wait, have you forgotten? Your brother is visiting today. He's been waiting for you for two hours now!"

Eleanor stopped walking. _Damn, I'd forgotten about that. _"Of course I didn't forget. Tell him I'll be one minute more please," she said, cursing mentally. She wanted nothing more than to get upstairs and let Alistair have his way with her. _Maybe if we're quick, _she thought.

"Fine, but I'm coming up too. I'm not done questioning you. Don't think you get off easy any more." Teagan held out his hand for the Queen, which she reluctantly look, surprised when the contact seemed to diminish the fire inside of her.

The next few hours passed in a hazy blur. Eleanor and Alistair tried to avoid skin contact, lest they rut in front of Fergus and his family. Instead she tried to keep contact with _anyone_ else, the desire inside of her building just by being around her husband. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. It was stronger than the need she had felt during their first time; it was stronger than the need she had felt after defeating the Blight; it was even stronger than after the Grand Cleric had kept them apart for months on end. It felt like a desire demon had a hold of her brain and was telling her that if she didn't have sex with that man she would die. And she listened to it.

Which is why she felt an overwhelming sense of relief when Fergus made his excuses and left. He had noticed his sister eye-fucking her husband all day and felt decided it was probably best if he left. Once they had finished waving him off, Alistair grabbed Eleanor's wrist and dragged her upstairs to their room, tearing off her dress before they even made it inside. He ran his hands down her body, eyeing her hungrily, before pulling off his own clothing. He pressed himself against her body, pinning her against the wall with his hips, the two of them breathing heavily as he ground his crotch against hers. She moaned wantonly, desperate for more of him. She didn't know exactly what she wanted, she just she needed it from _him_.

He answered her readily, flipping her around, rubbing his cock teasingly against her for a second, before thrusting inside of her, her wrists pinned to the wall beneath his hands. He took her quickly, powerfully, hilting himself fully inside of her with each thrust. She moaned her approval, not realising that the entire palace could hear her, and thrust her hips back as much as she could to allow him deeper access. Alistair growled in response, moving a hand from her wrist to grab her hip and pull her to him with each thrust.

Alistair quickly found completion, her position making her exquisitely tight. Yet it wasn't enough for either of them. When he eventually pulled out, he spun her around and stared at her hungrily. Before he could push her back against the wall, he found his calves hitting the bed, his back hitting the bed. Eleanor straddled his waist and sat on his already erect cock, eager for more.

The continued like that for the rest of the night, their stamina never seeming to wane. They were oblivious to everything around them, their only desire being their other half. In the small hours of the morning, sleep finally caught up with them, the two of them still connected, even as they slept.

* * *

"I take it this ritual of theirs was a success," joked Zevran, grinning at his wife.

She scowled at him then finished casting the sound-protection shield around Katia's cot. "Yes, though I don't think they were fully aware of they were getting themselves into." Zevran's grin turned into a lop-sided, puzzled smile. She sighed and shook her head, "Well obviously _I_ read that spell word for word. There were a few words I didn't understand at the time, but now I think I know what they mean: lust, unrelenting desire, insatiable appetite - you know, basically what they're doing right now."

Zevran laughed, "You mean, the King and Queen of Ferelden are going to be fucking like rabbits for the next month? Oh this is priceless!"


	14. Chapter 14

"It lasts a _month? _But what are we going to do until it wears off? They have business to attend to! They can't run the court when they're _rutting_ all the time, but they do _nothing else_."

Teagan paced the room, agitated. Did the couple know this would happen? He hoped not, because otherwise they were being very reckless and selfish indeed. To think, the scandals he'd had to try and cover up already, the two of them making a very public display during the middle of a court session.

"I guess you'll just have to act as regent until it passes. I wish I could offer more help, but this is the nature of the spell," apologised Nina weakly. She rocked her child calmingly in her arms, sick of the man's whining. He had done nothing but complain at her since the couple had finally made it back from the forest four days ago.

"You know," said Zevran, who had been quietly observing the man's ranting from the corner of the room, "if you're so worried about them causing another scandal, why not send them elsewhere until the spell wears off?"

Teagan stroked his chin in thought, "You know, that's not a bad idea. I'll just say they're visiting a foreign dignitary and nobody should think anything of it. Then when they return they can resume their duties without making a scene. Hopefully."

Zevran turned his head towards the door, listening to something the others couldn't hear. Nina looked at him curiously and he said, "It appears they're awake. I suggest you catch them soon Teagan. You don't have long before they wolf down breakfast and resume their activities. Maker knows you wouldn't want to interrupt them _then!"_ He laughed heartily and watched the red-head scowl at him, amused as always by him. _He should relax more. It does a man good to blow off steam every now and again. I should know. _

Teagan sighed and left the room, resigned to the fact he was going to have to interrupt the love birds. _No, love birds is too romanticised for what they're doing. Animals seems more appropriate. _He drudged up the stairs to their room, hating every step he took. "Why do I always get the short straw?" he muttered under his breath, cursing as he walked.

He was so engrossed in his muttering that he paid little attention to the noise bouncing off the corridor walls, or the skittish servants warning him to go back downstairs, so the sight that greeted him shocked to his core. As was becoming the norm, Alistair and Eleanor's bedroom door was wide open – clearly they had never made it down to breakfast. Teagan found the two of them fucking on the floor, in the middle of the doorway, making enough noise to wake the palace – not that they would have been able to sleep in the first place with the ruckus they were making. The noble blushed from head to toe, embarrassed at walking in on his nephew mid-coitus; while the royals had gotten very close to fucking in front of him lately, this was most definitely new for him.

He cleared his throat, trying to catch their attention, but was met with absolutely no recognition of his presence. He tried again, only to receive the same reaction. "If I might interrupt," he shouted eventually, irritated. Alistair stopped mid-trust and looked up at his uncle annoyed, his eyes uncharacteristically dark.

"This had better be good Teagan," he practically growled_. Also uncharacteristic_, thought Teagan. "We're kind of busy, in case you hadn't noticed."

Teagan squared his shoulders, refusing to be take offense. _He's not in his right mind right now. This isn't the real Alistair. Don't lash out at him. _"I need to have a word with you. Both of you," he said, trying not to stare at Eleanor's – _Alistair's wife, the Queen_ – exposed breasts.

Apparently she noticed, since she stared right back at him, her eyes showing the same darkness as Alistair's, and smiled wickedly. "Maybe he wanted to watch dear. Surely we can't say no to giving him a private audience," she slurred seductively.

_Keep it together man! _

"Pfft, like I'd ever share you," scoffed Alistair. His attention returned to her again, completely forgetting about Teagan. "You're mine. And I am yours," he practically growled, thrusting with each word to emphasise his point, Eleanor's gaze still firmly on Teagan, as if trying to draw him in.

Teagan looked away, wishing he could be _anywhere_ else right now. _Why do I always get the short straw?! _"Enough! Get in there and put some sodding clothes on now! I need to talk to you and I'd prefer to do it while you two aren't fucking like animals in the floor," he shouted, his patience at his wit's end.

Alistair narrowed his eyes at his uncle, then slowly, reluctantly, stood up and walked into the bedroom, finding his robe and putting it on. Eleanor followed suit – after staring hungrily at Alistair's naked posterior – and found her own robe. Teagan's blush began to recede with the presence of their robes, though much to his despair, Eleanor refused to tie her robe properly, thus giving him another clear view of her chest.

"Well? We're clothed aren't we," grumbled Alistair, "what do you want?"

"We're sending the both of you away for a while, until this ridiculous behaviour dies down."

The couple stared at him blankly for a minute, wondering what he had just said to them. After a few minutes, their expressions changed.

"You're joking, right?" laughed Eleanor.

"Tell me you're not serious," snarled Alistair. He stood up and faced Teagan, "Tell me you're not honestly kicking my wife and I out of _our_ _home_ because...what? We're trying to make a baby? No. If you don't like it, you can go back to Redcliffe, uncle. I've never stopped you from leaving here. You chose to stay here. But you know what, I haven't really needed you here for years."

Teagan stood his ground, refusing to let the lust-driven King get to him. The two men stared at each other, neither one winning or losing their battle.

"Well, it's awfully tense in here," said a lilting voice, breaking the silence. In the doorway stood the elves, hands on hips, amused smiles on their faces. Nina placed a comforting hand on Teagan's shoulder, "I'll take over, shall I da'len?"

Reluctantly the noble stood down, letting Nina take his place. She looked up at Alistair, visibly tired and instructed him to sit down, even managing to add a _please _at the end. "Now, perhaps I can word this a little better than Teagan. It would be best for not only his sanity, but also for the both of you, if you went somewhere quieter while this spell is active. After all, things are a little…_heated _for the two of you right now, and well, who are we to get in your way? Sooo, we've arranged for you to go to Highever and stay in a nice secluded house, all to yourselves. If you like we can have someone keep an eye on you, make sure you eat, you know, that sort of thing – right Teagan?" He nodded, "See? It's all sorted. Think of it as...a second honeymoon. That's a human thing right? See, it's not nearly as bad as Teagan was making it sound."

The couple looked at each other, silently discussing with each other if they agreed or not. Apparently they came to a conclusion, because Eleanor said, "Okay. Call the carriage. We'll eat something while our things are packed, although…hmmm, we won't really need clothes…"

"You're taking clothes. I won't have you scaring the entire Kingdom. It's bad enough you've scared the entire palace staff – " Nina placed a finger over Teagan's lips, silencing and confusing him.

"Go. Enjoy yourselves."

"Oh? What have they been doing all this time then?" asked Zevran jokingly from the doorway.

* * *

The next few weeks passed a lot easier from then on. Eleanor and Alistair managed to hardly shock anyone – minus the poor sod who forgot to knock one afternoon and found the King with his head between the Queen's legs – and Teagan managed to quieten the shaken servants around the palace. Nina no longer had to keep her child in a sound-proof bubble at all times, so she didn't hear things no child should ever hear. Nina and Zevran even managed to have a few moments of peace together, finding familiar comfort in one-another's bodies once their child was sound asleep.

They arrived back at the palace one afternoon, surprising everyone by simply walking into the palace, a skip in their step and constantly giggling. When Teagan got word of their arrival he rushed to meet then, surprised to have them back so soon.

"Teagan," said Alistair in pleasant surprise. He pulled the man into a bear hug, "It's good to see you again." The red-head fidgeted awkwardly in his arms, trying to wriggle free. Alistair let go, grinning lop-sidedly at him, "Sorry, uncle." Eleanor elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to cry out and stare daggers at her until he realised why she had done it. "Oh, and sorry about what happened…you know, a few weeks ago."

"Yes, sorry Teagan. We weren't ourselves," finished Eleanor, a faint blush threatening to spread across her cheeks. They smiled apologetically at him, the two of them looking more like themselves than they had in years. All traces of the darkness he had seen in them a few weeks ago was completely gone, replaced by their awkward, childish, innocence.

He sighed, relieved to have them back, and accepted their apology. "Your friends will want to know you're back," he said, "although, knowing them, they already know."

They laughed, knowing full well that Zevran must already know about their return. The rogue seemed to know everything before anyone else. They headed through the castle to where Teagan said he thought they were. in the library. They heard them before they reached them, Zevran's velvety voice reaching their ears through the wooden door, accompanied by a series of joyful gurgles. Eleanor and Alistair listened curiously and discovered he was telling Katia a story.

_How sweet, _thought Eleanor. _Wait…_She listened properly to what he was saying. "He's talking about me!" she said, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. She opened the door, forgetting about knocking or any other civilities, and walked in. Zevran continued speaking as if she wasn't there and finished his story, "…she climbed up its neck and _plunged_ her blades into the dragon's neck. It thrashed around wildly, trying to throw her off, but she drove her blades further into its neck until at last the beast dropped to the ground dead. And then, she casually retrieved her swords and jumped down from the dragon's neck, wiping its blood from her face, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened."

He looked up from his child's entranced, joyful face and grinned at her, "Oh, I didn't hear you come in. Would you like to join story time?" he asked, his eyes glinting with barely masked humour.

"We both know you heard us Zevran. You probably heard us get back in to _Denerim_." She walked over to Katia and picked her up, "And do you really think stories about me killing dragons are child appropriate?" Maker, she'd missed Katia; she was what had been keeping her sane for the last few months while she waited for Nina to regain her strength.

"No, but they're better than any about my life. Most of my life is me using sex to lure people into a false sense of security before I kill them. Or just outright killing people."

"Nonsense," chimed Nina, "what about your daring hits on the Crows? I'd say they're worthy of telling, and there's not _that _much sex in those stories."

Zevran grinned knowingly at her, "Ahhh, but cara, do you mean I should tell my stories about taking down the Crows, _or_, that I should tell the story of how we met?"

"You never did tell us properly how you met. You just…paraphrased it in your letter," said Alistair, joining his wife and playing with the child in her arms. Despite all his awkwardness, he could handle children. They're relatively simple to entertain and don't judge you like normal, grown-up people do. Heck, you can entertain them just by making weird faces, something which he could d_efinitely _do.

The ex-Crow sighed. "You know, I'm surprised you haven't already asked. Fine. But this doesn't mean I've finished telling her about the great Hero of Ferelden," he said with a smile in his voice. "Hmm, where to begin…"

The five of them gathered around: Zevran in his armchair, Nina sat behind him on the arm of said chair, Eleanor and Alistair sat huddled together on a sofa, Katia still in her arms. The elves watched the other couple curiously. It was strange to see them so close together and _not _be tearing each other's clothes off, especially given the last month. If they didn't know it was their child in her arms, they'd have said that Eleanor and Alistair looked like a perfect family, husband and wife and child, all three happy and smiling. But it was their child in her arms, and a small part of Nina, the protective maternal side, cried out to take her child back.

Zevran wrapped his arm around Nina's waist and cleared his throat, "So…I guess it all began with my plan to take down a particularly tricky Crow base…" The Grey Wardens listened intently as the elf told them about the blood mage who he failed to kill, who took him as her plaything, and who accidently revealed her vulnerable side. He told them about how, through kindness and protection, she came to trust him, to open up to him. She told them what she told Zevran, how a group of shemlen attacked her clan on the day of her wedding, killing the Keeper and leading to the slaughter of her clan, along with her husband-to-be. They told them about how Nina offered to help Zevran, as a means of an apology for kidnapping him, about how they found Isabela – the name making Alistair blush at the memory of her – and convinced her to give them passage to Antiva.

"Wait," interrupted Nina, "do you two know Isabela?" She saw the blush spreading across Alistair's cheeks. _He only blushes like that when…_ "Creators! Did you sleep with her?"

The King's blush spread, his voice stuck in his throat. Eleanor's eyes shot wide open and she coughed in surprise, disturbing the child in her arms. Zevran laughed heartily, "No cara, they did not. Although Alistair did stare at her chest the entire time Eleanor was failing miserably against her at cards." His blush deepened, "Yes Alistair, we all saw. You know, sometimes you lack subtly my friend. Anyway, where was I…?"

"Isabela?" offered Eleanor.

The rogue grinned, remembering his own night with her in the Pearl, then continued spinning his tale. He told them about their infiltration of the Crow's fortress and their triumphant battle there. Nina told them of her backfired spell that ended up saving Zevran's life, and how he in turn saved hers by rushing her back to Isabela's ship. They smiled warmly at each other as they spoke of their admissions of affection, of Zevran's earring, and of their pirate wedding.

"And there you have it," said Zevran, raising his wife's hand to his lips and kissing it, "That is the tale of how I met this lovely woman." She shook her head at him, mumbling, "Soppy git," at him with a barely concealed smile on her face. He caught her chin in his hand to make her look at him. "You love it," he said quietly to her, pulling her in for a brief but passionate kiss, then releasing her chin.

A quiet knock on the library door interrupted their perfect little bubble. "Messeres, sorry to intrude, but dinner is ready."

Eleanor and Alistair's faces lit up. "Food? Yes please. I'm _famished_! All that sex has left me _hungry!"_

The group laughed then followed the elf down to the dining hall, more than ready for food.


	15. Chapter 15

Alistair awoke to an empty bed. He sensed it before he saw it, his half-awake state telling him s_omething is missing here. _He felt around, his eyes still blurry with sleep, and found Eleanor gone, the sheets on her side thrown back, the bed still warm. He called her named sleepily, mumbling at first, then nearly shouting as his concern grew when she didn't reply. A noise came from the bathroom. He leapt out of bed to investigate, running when he realised the noise was made by Eleanor.

Panic struck him when he saw her. She was hunched on the floor, cradling the chamber pot between her legs. Her face was pale and sweaty and her breath was coming in ragged intakes. He rushed to her side, frantically trying to both diagnose and cure her at the same time, despite his lack of proficiency in either area. She waved him away, telling him _I'm fine, honestly, _not wanting him to see her like this. She felt horrible. This was the fourth time this week alone she'd woken up abruptly and had to bolt to the bathroom to throw up. The other times she'd managed to clean her face and sneak back into bed before Alistair had noticed, but this morning had been especially bad and he'd found her curled on the floor, her head in the chamber pot, wishing he would just leave her to throw up in peace.

"I'm getting Nina," he said finally, "If you won't let me help, then I'm getting her." He kissed the top of her head as he stood up, then rushed out of the room and down the corridor, calling the mage's name.

He came back a few moments later, the mage following behind him sleepily. Nina took one look at Eleanor and sighed, "Alistair, she's fine."

The warrior looked at her incredulously. "How can you say _she's fine_?" he asked, nearly shouting. "She is quite clearly _not fine. _She's – "

"Alistair, stop shouting at her. I really am fine," interrupted Eleanor. _Maker, he can be stupid sometimes. _She struggled to her feet, sick of staring into that blighted bowl, and wiped her face clean, before meeting her husband eye to eye. His eyes were full of tenderness and worry. She placed a shaking hand on his cheek, smiling sweetly at him. "You never did pay much attention when you were taught about women, did you?"

He looked at her confused, sure there was an insult in there somewhere, hidden beneath her weary smile. "I get the feeling I've missed something important here," he said, looking between the two women, both of whom had amused, 'do you really not know?' smiles on their faces.

Eleanor took his hand in hers and laid it over her stomach, "You could say that." It took a moment for the message to register properly, his brain as usual slower than his mouth. He realised their meaning in a visible light-bulb moment, his face lighting up as their message finally hit home.

His hand shot from her stomach to his mouth, then switched between pointing to her stomach and covering his mouth. "You – are you – you're – sweet Andraste!" She smiled broadly at him, tears welling in her eyes, and nodded frantically. Before she had a chance to speak, Alistair had pulled her into a bone-crushingly tight bear hug, holding her as close to him as he could. She squealed slightly, his strength overwhelming in her currently weakened state, and his grip loosened as he apologised for his thoughtlessness. "I can't believe it," he said quietly, as if talking to himself, "it actually worked. Morrigan did something nice. _Again!" _He chuckled to himself, his mirth turning to joyful laughter.

The two of them stayed there for what felt like an eternity, laughing, smiling, crying. It had worked. Neither of them could believe it, but Morrigan's spell had _actually_ worked. Despite being told she would never have children, Eleanor was pregnant. It was a lot to take in. More than when she realised her parents were about to die, more than when she realised she had to near singlehandedly save Ferelden, more than when she ended the Blight. No, compared to this, they were all a walk in the park. Alistair's only real reaction was one of pure elation. He had finally given his wife the one thing she had been craving for years and nothing made him happier.

Nina left them to their joy, happy for the couple but exhausted, and returned to bed, filling Zevran in on things before she fell asleep, grateful that for now Katia was sound asleep. When the child stirred a few minutes later, Zevran kissed his sleeping wife's hair and tiptoed over to the child's cot before she could wake up the sleeping elf.

Later in the day, when Nina had recovered her sleep, she examined Eleanor properly, to confirm their suspicions. Both women already knew she was pregnant; Nina herself had already had a child, so knew all the signs already; Eleanor knew her body inside out and knew when something was different, and this was no exception. Still, they had to be sure.

Alistair paced excitedly as the mage cast her magic over the Eleanor's torso, examining her for extra signs of life. Eleanor told him numerous times to stand still because he was making her edgy, but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own as his exited pacing always resumed a few seconds after he managed to stop. "Well? Come on, tell us already!" he said anxiously after the third sweep over Eleanor's body.

Nina sighed at his impatience and said, "You know, for a King, you really lack patience," before resuming her examination. She was just making the man sweat now. She already knew Eleanor was pregnant. She knew after the first glow of magic, telling Eleanor with a minute nod and smile, then continuing with her 'examination'.

Eleanor shot her a look that said 'maybe he's suffered enough now' and the mage nodded, the glowing at her fingertips ebbing away. "Well," she said after a seemingly endless silence, "I can indeed confirm that you are pregnant. Congratulations lethallan. You're going to have a child."

* * *

The rest of the week was spent announcing the good news to people. First they told Fergus, Eleanor grinning from ear to ear when she told her brother the news. Teagan was next, the man for once visibly happy for them, though the couple suspected it had something to do with there now being an heir on the way. They sent letters to their old friends next, even Sten, though they wondered how it would reach the Qunari as there were many Sten in Par Vallon. And that was assuming he was still 'Sten of the Beresaad'; they had heard rumour that the new Arishok, who replaced the one who died in Kirkwall, had previously travelled with the Hero of Ferelden…but that was just rumour, right? Once everyone close to them knew, the King and Queen officially announced their pregnancy to Ferelden, causing people to declare a national holiday and get extremely drunk for no real reason other than because they wanted to.

"Great. Everyone's celebrating my pregnancy and getting drunk…except me," pouted Eleanor. "It's my baby, not theirs. Why can't I get drunk?" Alistair opened his mouth to answer, but she waved him off, "Yes, yes, I know. It's _because _I'm pregnant. I get it. I just don't like it. I miss drinking brandy. And wine. Heck, I even miss ale. Anything that's not water and fruit juice!" She threw her hands in the air in frustration. Ever since confirming her pregnancy, her diet had been altered to keep her as healthy as possible. That meant no alcohol, cake was swapped for fruit, and of course servants buzzing around her at all times, making sure her needs were catered for.

Alistair joined her at the window and rubbed her back comfortingly, trying not to laugh at her ranting. "If you like, I can drink all of your alcohol for you," he proposed, his mirth barely masked in his voice.

"Oh Ali, we both know you can't handle your liquor."

* * *

The first few months passed relatively easily. After a while Eleanor's morning sickness passed, though soon it was replaced by random disagreements with food which sent her running to the bathroom, Alistair hot on her heel to comfort her. Somehow her already sizable appetite increased, the kitchen staff working overtime to make her the randomest of meals at the most ridiculous hours of the day. As the months grew, so too did she, much to her annoyance. Despite Alistair's protests that she was more beautiful than ever, she felt as big as a dragon – fitting given how her temper could rival an angry dragon's as well – and her despair only grew when she realised that she was still going to get bigger. Occasionally she would sulk, forgetting that she had asked for this, and complain at Alistair for having done this to her.

The warrior, who had learned how to deal with his wife years ago, let her rant at him about it being his fault for putting this thing inside of her and he had to deal with the mess – which apparently was her mood swings – that he made and… He stopped listening after a while, a smile on his lips as he watched her tire herself out before slumping back in her seat. It was just like putting a sword in her hand, only she'd be banned from picking up a sword for about the next few years, not that she intended to stay put for that long. Instead of taking out her anger on a wooden dummy, she took it out verbally against anyone who was unfortunate enough to be her target. And like with the dummy, it was best just to let her fight until she tired herself out.

"Are you done now?" he asked after a few minutes of quiet. His voice was laced with masked humour, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Eleanor said nothing, but pouted and nodded reluctantly. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, wondering how long his patience would last. After all, there's only so long one can stand in for a training dummy.


	16. Chapter 16

**_I've read the Dragon Age books by Bioware, so naturally more information is revealed. Like the parentage of Alistair. If you haven't read them, then A) read them, they're really good and B) spoiler alert! You're gonna find out who Alistair's mother is. _**

* * *

She awoke to the cheery sound of birds outside of her window, sunlight streaming in and bathing the room. She opened her eyes to find the servants quietly busying around her room, opening the curtains, leaving her morning tea by her bed, emptying her chamber pot, the usual routine. She sat up and stretched, enjoying the sun's warmth on her skin.

_Eleanor? Eleanor, are you awake?_

She sighed, her good mood vanishing at the calling of her name. "Yes mother." She found her robe and headed towards the door, grumbling to herself as she walked. She opened the door and stared sleepily at her mother, rubbing her eyes to try and clear her vision. "What is it?" she snapped.

"Good morning to you too," she said sarcastically. "I just wanted to make sure you were awake. The King will be here soon, and I need you looking your best."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. _Great! Someone else she's going to try and marry me off to. _"Well I'm awake mother, obviously, and don't worry, I'll be ready for _his Royal Majesty_," she said, bowing with a twirl of her wrist in an overly dramatic manner.

Lady Cousland scowled at her daughter, wishing the Maker had granted her a less annoying daughter, then left her to get ready.

Eleanor sighed when her mother was gone, closing her bedroom door and collapsing on the bed, dreading the day ahead of her. _Time to be presented to yet another stuck up noble again. Maker, you'd never think I was a human being, would you? _

A quiet knock on the door sounded and her lady-in-waiting entered. Eleanor sat at her dressing table automatically, eager to get this over with. The elf began brushing through her hair, plaiting the long curls and then wrapping the finished plait into a tight bun. She hated wearing her hair like this. She tried cutting it all off once, in the hopes that it would deter future suitors, but her mother shouted at her all day for it and so from then on she refused to touch it, preferring instead to leave it down whenever she could, thinking that maybe if would grow so unruly, no one would come near here with a pike. Her lady-in-waiting began applying rouge to her cheeks next, a soft pink that made her seem far too feminine for her liking. She hated wearing make up, preferring instead to go without the stuff. When the elf was done, she let her dress her in a red and pink silk dress, lined with silver thread. Eleanor fidgeted awkwardly as the elf laced her into it, complaining when she pulled the corset too tight, causing her to sputter and cough from lack of breath.

Once ready, Eleanor headed downstairs, already dreading the day ahead. Days like this bored her, being put on parade for some stuck-up noble after her hand – and her father's wealth. She strolled around the castle, trying to avoid her mother who would undoubtedly take her to meet the _King of Ferelden. _Urgh. King or not, she just knew she wouldn't like him. He was probably old and ugly and…

A young man in the training yard caught her attention. He was blonde and muscular, wearing simple, but well made armour. The man was sparring with Ser Gilmore, wielding his sword and shield with impressive skill. He quickly bested Gilmore, knocking him to the ground and pointing his sword at his throat in victory. Gilmore accepted defeat, smiling falsely at his combatant, then accepted the man's helping hand and stood up, dusting himself off. Eleanor smirked, glad to finally see someone beat the man. He'd been getting far too cocky lately, ever since he'd found out the Grey Wardens were interested in him.

"Come now Ser Gilmore, surely you won't let _one man_ beat you?" she shouted to him, forgetting about the young man's presence and treating the warrior like she would do in private company. "Why, if _he_ can beat you, perhaps _I_ can? Although, we both know already that I can. After all, I have kicked your arse many times before." She retrieved her practice swords from the rack and twirled them in the air, reacclimatising herself with their weight, then held them out in front of her in a challenging stance. "Care to spar with me Gilly?"

The men in the yard jeered, taunting him, daring him to accept her proposition lest he look like a coward. "Very well Eleanor, if you insist. But don't complain when I ruin your pretty dress."

As if to spite him, she tore at the skirts of her dress, freeing her legs. "Oh, I won't complain. My _mother_ on the other hand…" she said, lunging at him, forcing him dodge out of the way. They swung at each other, lunging and parrying, each strike precise and powerful. After a while they began to tire, Eleanor due to her corset, Gilmore due to his previous fight. Gilmore landed a close blow on her, slashing through the laces of her corset as she spun to avoid his attack, the garment falling to the ground. The men in the yard stared at it in horror. Eleanor stretched, "Ahhh, much better. Now I can breathe. Thank you Gilly." She lunged at the man, using his shock to her advantage, and threw him off balance. Seizing the opportunity, she kicked him square in the chest, flooring him, and knelt on top of him, her blade at his throat, a wicked grin on her lips.

"_Eleanor!_ What in the Maker's name are you doing? And what happened to your dress? And your _corset_? Maker, forgive her your Majesty."

Eleanor turned around to see her mother staring at her, wide-eyed with shock, her face as bright a red as her hair.

_Shit. _

"What are you waiting for? Get off Ser Gilmore this _instant. _I really am sorry your Majesty, she's not normally like this."

"You don't say," drawled the young man sarcastically. "And please, 'your Majesty' is so formal. Call me Alistair."

"But your Ma – "

"I insist, Lady Cousland."

"Wait," interrupted Eleanor. "_You're_ our guest? The King?" Her cheeks flared, the line between her face and hair blurring. She brushed down her skirts, mortified that she was meeting the King of Ferelden, this young, handsome man, in a ruined silk dress without a corset. "Maker, I should change."

"Yes."

"No need," said the King, interrupting Lady Cousland. "It's nice to see a lady who can fight for a change." He held out his hand to her, "I'm King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden, pleased to make your acquaintance. And you must be Lady Cousland's daughter, Eleanor…"

_Eleanor! Eleanor! ELEANOR! Maker, wake up! _

She sat bolt upright in bed, sweat dripping off her skin and soaking her hair. Alistair was next to her, worry etched on his face, panic in his eyes. He sighed in relief when she sat up. "Thank the Maker. I thought you'd never wake up," he said, hugging her to his chest.

She clung onto him, confused as to how she had gotten there. "I was back home…I was…" she began sobbing, the memory of her dream flooding back to her. It had seemed so real, like her parents were still alive, back when she thought being married off to someone was the worst thing imaginable. Something dawned on her then, "I _was_ asleep, wasn't I?"

She pulled back from Alistair's embrace so she could look at him. He looked at her stunned, "Eleanor, you were asleep for nearly a week."

She sat there in shock, processing his words. _A week? But…surely not. I was only asleep for a short while. Wasn't I?_

A set of hands began busying over her, examining her. "Everything seems normal…" Nina ran her hands over Eleanor, checking on her and the baby, "Both are still good. So why did this happen…?" She seemed to be talking to herself now, Alistair happy that both his wife and child were fine. "This doesn't normally happen to non-magical shems – sorry, force of habit." The mage's hands stilled and she looked up at the couple puzzled, "Do either of you have magic in your bloodline?"

"No," answered Eleanor automatically. When Alistair didn't speak, she looked at him confused. "Alistair?"

He fidgeted awkwardly, suddenly very hot under the collar. "Do you remember that letter I found a while back, from Duncan?"

"Yes…?" She didn't like where this was going.

"Well, in it he told me a few things I needed to know…like who my mother really is." Eleanor looked at him gobsmacked. _He certainly kept that one quiet, _she thought, amazed at how he hadn't blurted out the letter's contents yet. Even alcohol hadn't loosened his tongue on the matter, meaning that whatever the letter's contents were, they were important and very personal, so personal that he didn't want to share them with her yet. Which was fine, honestly. Alistair sighed, realising he would have to tell her. "She was a Grey Warden, like us. An elven mage named Fiona, who went into the Deep Roads on a mission with the Wardens…and Maric."

Eleanor stared at him, not sure what to say. "But…you don't have pointy ears," she blurted out.

"I can help there lethallan," chimed in Nina. "There's a reason elves are so against mating with humans. When an elf and a human have a child, the human's blood wins out, thus making them human in appearance. And since we elves are so proud of our bloodline, thinning our blood by mating with a human and reducing our numbers is just insulting. No offense Alistair."

"None taken."

Eleanor looked between the elf and her husband. "So Alistair's mother was an elf, so what? So she was a mage, so what? He is neither of those things. What do they have to do with me being asleep for a _week_?" She almost shouted at them in frustration.

Nina saw the confusion on her face, the inability to connect the dots. Maybe it was the fact she was most likely still tired, despite having slept for a week. Maybe it was because the elf had seen this before, whereas she suspected this was not common knowledge amongst humans since they locked up most of their mages. Maybe she just didn't know.

"Sometimes, when a mage gets pregnant, complications can occur. This tends to happen if the child also has magical abilities, but sometimes it's just because of their parentage. Either way, the mother can be affected whilst carrying the child. When she sleeps, she can fall into a coma-like state, where she is unaware of being in the Beyond – sorry, the Fade – and lives out her life in some alternate reality her brain cooks up, and all the while, the child develops normally. However, if these comas keep occurring, the mother cannot be woken. Often the comas get longer in duration the more they happen and because the mother is asleep, she cannot eat, she cannot take in nutrients and...eventually both she and the baby…perish."

"NO!" screamed Eleanor, tears streaming down her face. "I will _not_ die, nor will my baby! Not now! Not after all we've done to get here!" She broke down then, her shouts turning into incoherent, cries, her voice a high-pitched wail. Under different circumstances, she would have grabbed her sword and hacked something to pieces, but she was in no state to wield a sword. So instead her fists would have to do. She hurled herself at the nearest bulk of mass and began to take out her anger and hurt, punching it again and again.

Alistair sat wide-eyed, in shock, not realising it was _him_ his wife was punching. "This is my fault…" he whispered to himself. He repeated it over and over until Eleanor stopped punching him and turned her anger directly to him.

"It is! This is _your_ fault! _You_ did this to me, to _us! _You've killed us both!" She resumed punching him, the warrior taking each punch, his own tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt a weight press on his heart, the guilt of causing his wife and unborn child so much harm clinging to him, seeping into every inch of his soul.

Nina shouted for someone to help her, a collection of guards rushing into the room and shouting as they quickly assessed the situation and began prying the Queen off the King, being as careful with the pregnant woman as they could. She kicked and screamed as they moved her away from him, sitting her down on the other side of the room.

"Get out of my sight! I can't look at you right now!"

Knowing it was best to calm her down as quickly as possible, Nina grabbed Alistair by the arm and dragged him out of the room, leaving the Queen to sob quietly to herself, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. "You won't die little baby. I won't let you. I won't let either of us die."


	17. Chapter 17

Eleanor clutched Katia to her breast. The chubby little elf smiled up at her, blissfully unaware of her distress, and gurgled happily. She would not let her go. She was all that was keeping her sane right now, keeping her strong, stopping her from breaking down all over again. She couldn't do it again. Not only did it emotionally drain her, it physically exhausted her, making her want to curl up and sleep. But she refused to sleep. She would not get stuck in the Fade again, she would not risk her baby's life like that.

So instead she clutched onto Katia, onto another woman's baby, in the hopes that if she held onto her long enough, everything would fix itself. She knew it wouldn't, but some tiny, irrational part of her brain clung onto the hope that it would.

It was hopeless.

A choked sob escaped her throat, her tears having dried up days ago, her eyes red and puffy. Her eyelids were so heavy, the call of sleep beckoning to her like a siren's song, but she refused to listen to it. She couldn't. She was terrified of what would happen if she fell asleep. But then, she wanted to quiet her mind, to get away from the doubt and panic racing through her head, from the fear that kept her awake, from the guilt that tugged at her heart.

It wasn't Alistair's fault, not really. She realised that now. He couldn't help his parentage. And they didn't know for sure if that was even the cause of this. Perhaps it was because of the ritual. Perhaps it was because of the Taint in their blood. Perhaps it just wasn't meant to be. Whatever the cause, he was not it, he couldn't be. Nina had said it happened when mages had a child, but neither of them were mages. They were Wardens.

She needed to apologise to him, but she didn't know if he would speak to her. All week she had refused to see him, shouting and screaming whenever he came near her. She cringed when she remembered how she had treated him in her blind anger, not stopping to ask him why he hadn't told her about the letter.

Katia fidgeted in her arms, sensing her unease, and laid a tiny hand on her cheek, her brilliant grin spreading to the warrior automatically at the sight of the smiling child, a small but real smile gracing her lips for a moment, before disappearing again. _I shouldn't be holding her. She's not my child. She's not mine to keep._

* * *

She awoke a few hours later, wondering when sleep had taken her, but relieved that she had awoken. The covers had been pulled over her and Katia was nowhere to be seen. Eleanor sat up and sighed. It was always weird waking up in an empty bed. Even stranger was waking up in an empty bed because she had fought with her husband. They seldom fought. This wasn't like them. All of this over a stupid, unobtainable idea of hers.

Something new next to the bed caught her eye. A vase sat on the bedside table, in it were twelve red roses, and leaning against it was a piece of parchment folded in half with her name written on it in scrawled script. _Alistair. _She smiled at the gesture, remembering the first time she found his rose in his shirt pocket. She'd lost it during the fight with the Archdemon, the delicate flower no match for the dragon's mighty claws.

Hesitantly, she picked up the parchment and opened it. A letter fell out of the folded paper and landed on her lap. She acknowledged it, but left it on her lap, deciding to read afterwards. Instead she read what Alistair had written to her.

_Eleanor, _

_I have been a fool. I should have told you about this years ago, but I was too shaken to say anything at the time. And then, you went off to Amaranthine and it left my mind. I only remembered about it properly the other day, but by then the damage had been done. I am truly sorry for not telling you. I hope you can forgive me my love. _

_I know it's not as good as a verbal apology, but since I cannot speak to you in person, I have left you something which I hope you like, and something which I should have showed you a long time ago. _

_Forever yours, Alistair _

Eleanor stared at the letter for a moment, her tears splashing onto the parchment in her hands. After a minute or so, she remembered the letter sat on her lap and opened it. It was the letter from Duncan. She read it carefully, taking in each word and revelation. She learned more about Fiona, Alistair's real mother who was now the Grand Enchanter of the Circle of Magi. She learned more about the Grey Wardens. She learned more about Duncan, about his past and how he had come to be a Grey Warden, his story surprising her and making her giggle at the thought of him being a rebellious youth.

When she was done, she set down the letters and, slowly, stood up. She took a deep breath of the roses, then padded over to the door and left her room. Apparently it was big news, because behind her she could hear the servants and guards whispering, gasping. She waddled to Zevran and Nina's room, bracing herself for the wave of mortifying embarrassment that was sure to hit her.

Sure enough, when she knocked on their door, she felt her cheeks began to blush. Zevran opened the door, his finger on his lips. "We just put her to sleep," he whispered. He stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. "So, I take it you found his note."

Eleanor looked away from the elf, suddenly very ashamed of herself. "Yes. I need to talk to him."

Zevran smirked, "You already know where he is Ella. Go to him."

The Queen looked at him confused. How was she supposed to know where he was? That was why she had come here.

Deciding to work on instinct, she turned away from Zevran and let her feet guide her. She walked downstairs, through the palace, past the questioning looks from the palace guards, until she found herself in the training courtyard, watching her husband spar with Teagan. Although he could hold his own, Teagan was no match for Alistair, a seasoned fighter and might Grey Warden, and quickly lost to him, laughing and slapping his back when he helped him to his feet.

Teagan spotted her first, standing awkwardly at the entrance to the yard, wringing her hands over and over, biting her lip nervously. He nodded in her direction and Alistair looked over to her, his laughter faltering when he saw her.

"I'll give you two some privacy, shall I?" said Teagan, edging away quickly, not wanting to be around when shit undoubtedly hit the fan.

The couple looked at each other, not sure who should start first. Alistair decided to break the ice, apologising, but Eleanor quickly cut him off. "You don't need to apologise Alistair. I do." His jaw snapped shut. _Of all the things I thought she'd say, that wasn't it. _She edged closer to him, still gnawing on her lip and wringing her hands.

"I acted rashly. I shouldn't have blamed you for all of…this," she gestured randomly in the air, unsure of where to indicate. "I'm sorry Alistair. I guess I went a little crazy with all this baby nonsense." A pregnant pause hung in the air. It was obvious she had more to say, but she seemed reluctant to continue. Finally, she sighed and quietly said, "Maybe…maybe this wasn't worth it. Risking our lives for something…unnatural. I mean, clearly we just weren't meant to have children. We're _both_ Grey Wardens. Our chances were beyond zero from the very beginning. Yet despite knowing that from the start, I never truly accepted it."

Alistair closed the distance between them. "Eleanor, just because we are Grey Wardens does not mean we should not have children."

"But it's part of our vows we make, one of the things we give up to serve the order. We accept that due to the change we undergo we cannot have children."

"But it doesn't say that we are _prohibited_ from having children, it's just not something that tends to happen due to the Taint inside of us."

"And yet here you are Alistair, the child of a Grey Warden."

Alistair stared at her dumbstruck. "Is that what this is about?" he asked quietly, trying not to let his annoyance be heard. Maker he hated fighting with her. It killed him inside every time they fought, every time they argued - not that that was often.

Eleanor opened and closed her mouth, trying to word her thoughts. "No…I just…" She sighed, frustrated. Why was this so hard to explain? "I've been doing a lot of thinking these last few days. I've brought _all_ this upon myself. I couldn't accept that I can't have children. I went to extreme measures to go against that and now I'm paying the price for my stubbornness. And now I don't think things can be fixed." She placed a tender hand on his cheek, gazing sadly at him. "I'm _so_ sorry Alistair. I really fucked things up this time."

Alistair laid his hand over hers, leaning into her touch and kissing her palm. Her hand began to tremble slightly. He looked properly at his wife for the first time in almost a week. He could tell she'd hardly slept, the dark circles around her eyes contrasting starkly against her pale skin. She looked so scared and vulnerable. The unshed tears in her eyes began threatening to spill over, so he pulled her to him and held her in his arms. She broke down then, sobbing her apologies over and over, chanting that it was all her fault, repeatedly telling him she loved him, begging him not to leave her.

He quickly joined her, any anger he had disappearing at her desperate pleas, the two of them weeping, wondering in that moment why they had ever thought any of this was a good idea. After what seemed like an eternity, their tears began to subside. They stood embracing one another in the middle of the training yard, refusing to move, glad of the support of their other half. Eventually though, they parted, smiling sadly at one another. Things were healing. They had overcome the first, difficult hurdle.

A wicked smile graced Alistair's lip, "Say, I have an idea."

Eleanor sighed and rolled her eyes. "Really? Whilst I'm pregnant?" _Men, _she thought, _only one thing on their mind. _

He laughed and shook his head, "No, not _that, _you dirty-minded woman." He moved away from her and walked to the weapons rack, grabbed a practice sword, then held it out for Eleanor. "_This_." She stared at him in disbelief. Was he really offering her this? She'd been banned from picking up a weapon whilst pregnant, wooden or not. "You need it," he explained. "As much as I like to be there for you, I don't like being a punching bag. So," he walked to her and put the sword in her hand, "have at it. Take out all your anger and hurt and Maker-knows what else. Don't worry, I won't tell Nina if you won't."

She looked at the wooden sword in her hand in confusion. It seemed a simple gesture, but it meant the world to her. After a few moments staring at the sword, she smiled at her husband then moved to stand amongst the training dummies. She weighed the sword in her hand, comforted by its presence, and passed it between her hands, deciding where to start first.

She swung, putting all her strength and emotion behind it. The strike instantly made her feel a little better, the action helping deal with all of the feelings bouncing around inside of her. She swung again and again, her anger and hurt and anguish fuelling each strike. The more she struck, the more she thought about her mistakes. She thought about her stupid desperation, the months she and Alistair had spent distant because of her, the trouble they had gone through to find Morrigan. She thought about the stupid ritual, about dragging Zevran and his family into her mess, making his wife do a blood spell without thinking it through properly. She thought about Alistair, about the things she had coerced him into doing, what she had put him through, what she was putting him through right now.

Eleanor threw her sword in rage at the dummy, screaming as she did so, the wooden weapon missing by a mile and landing with a clatter in the weapons rack. A tentative hand touched her shoulder and she whipped around, adrenaline still coursing through her system. It dissolved instantly when she saw her husband looking worriedly at her. She took a few cleansing breaths, then placed her hand over his, squeezing it slightly to reassure him.

"I think I got a little carried away," she chuckled awkwardly.

"You don't say," drawled Alistair sarcastically.

They laughed together then, quietly at first, growing into belly-aching laughs that bounced around the training yard. They were healing. Things were by no means back to normal, not by a long shot, but things were healing between them. They had expressed their feelings to each other and bared all, like they should have done from the beginning. Things were better.


	18. Chapter 18

It kept happening. This was the fifth time now she had fallen into a coma whilst asleep. And they were getting longer, like Nina had said. It was now eight days and still no sign of her waking up. He remained by her side day and night, waiting for the moment when she sat bolt upright so he could rush to her side and comfort her.

It was torture. He felt so helpless, watching the woman he loved suffer and slowly die, and be able to do absolutely nothing to help her. He tried to remain strong, he really did, but it was so difficult to do. He had no one who knew what he was going through, not really. Zevran could offer some support, but he didn't know what he was feeling, not really. His wife and child were safe by his side, not slowly dying whilst he watched on helplessly. Teagan had given up trying to comfort him too, his words sounding hollow and meaningless whenever he tried to offer his nephew comfort.

The comas were having a physical effect on her too. The circles around her eyes were now a permanent fixture on her face, her fear of sleep making her stay awake for as long as possible until sleep inevitably took her. Her stomach looked unnaturally large on her body, the comas already beginning to cause her to lose weight. Her once strong muscles had quickly weakened, leaving her heavily dependent on him, making simple tasks like walking nigh on impossible.

"Alistair?"

He tore his eyes away from his sleeping wife to greet his visitor. _Speak of the Devil… _"What can I do for you Zevran?"

The elf came to join him next to the bed. "My friend, you cannot stay awake forever. You need sleep as well."

He laughed bitterly, "You think I can sleep whilst my wife is potentially on her _death bed_?"

"It won't do either of you any good if you deprive yourself of sleep." He placed a caring hand on his shoulder, "She will be alright my friend. We will keep an eye on her whilst you get some much-needed rest."

Deciding it better to do as he said and shut him up, Alistair grabbed a pillow from the bed and moved to one of the armchairs by the fire, turning it so it faced Eleanor when she wake up. Zevran moved to where the warrior had been sat, taking up his vigil. He wished he could offer more support, but alas he was neither a mage nor someone who had already gone through this. Truth be told, he had only some idea of what Alistair felt, and even then it wasn't due to the same circumstances as this. He knew the terror was watching your loved one potentially die, but that had happened a long time ago. Now his loved one was safe and alive, and they had even had a child to prove this. Alistair may never get to see that happen.

He bowed his head, hiding the tears that rolled down his cheeks. "Don't you dare die Ella. You've survived worse than this."

* * *

"How you got invited out I'll never know. After the scene you made – "

"Dear, stop complaining. Our daughter is going hunting with the _King_. That is a great honour and _clearly_ shows that the 'scene' you say she made has not put him off. If anything, I think the fact he saw her sparring bode well in her favour."

"If you're quite done talking about me like I'm not here…" huffed Eleanor. She finished securing her weapons to her, her swords in their sheaths, her crossbow and bolts on her back, and prepared to mount her horse. It was a fine beast, a present from her father when she came of age, with hair as black as night.

Lady Cousland began fussing over her daughter, grooming her hair, earning a loud sigh from the red-head. "Mother, I'm going to be riding a horse through a forest. My hair is going to come out of place, despite Alana's _brilliant _work. Really, I just _love _these plaits. And the makeup, it's _wonderful_. _Very_ practical."

She resisted the urge to shout at her daughter, instead telling her to get on her horse and enjoy herself and be good and –

Eleanor stopped listening once she was on her horse. She was eager to see the King again. Ever since seeing him fight she had been intrigued by the man, and as luck would have it, her mother was eager to see her married to him. Which was why she was now on her way to join the King on a private hunting trip in his grounds.

She was eager to show him her skill with a weapon, his approval very encouraging that he wasn't just some dim-witted idiot who only wanted a trophy wife and her father's money. _At least this time I'll be wearing clothes, _she thought, cringing at the memory of her fight with Ser Gilmore, her ripped dress, her discarded corset.

The King's guards were waiting for her at the gate to Highever. The ride to Denerim was silent and awkward. The men escorting her to her destination were definitely not talkers, the two armour clad men clearly wishing they were doing something else. A few times Eleanor tried to break the tension, cracking a joke, but each time the men ignored her attempts.

On horseback they quickly reached their destination, a small wooded area just south of Denerim, clearly intended for private use. The King was waiting for her when she arrived, his own collection of guards standing to attention. He dismissed the guards when she stopped her horse near his, telling them he was very well capable of looking after himself and he highly doubted his guest was going to assassinate him. After a moment's hesitation they left, presumably to lurk somewhere nearby just in case.

"Sorry about them," he chuckled awkwardly. "I have to bring them with me. You know, since I'm King and all."

Eleanor laughed with him, a strange squeak escaping her lips at the end. Maker, what was she supposed to do now? She starting wishing she'd actually paid more attention to her mother when she made her learn how to be a lady, how to act around noble men.

She realised suddenly he was looking at her expectantly. "Shall we?" he repeated, gesturing to the expanse of trees ahead of them. She nodded her agreement and let him lead the way, following closely behind. They rode in silence, Eleanor's cheeks burning so much she swore they were actually on fire. Maker, why was she acting like this? She was normally so confident, so defiant, yet here she was, blushing over some guy.

After what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence, the King slowed his horse so he was next to Eleanor. "I must say, I admire a woman who isn't afraid to come hunting. Or even knows how to hunt for that matter. Maybe noble women don't care for it."

She laughed awkwardly, "My mother hates it. She thinks my brothers and father have had too much of an influence on me."

The King laughed, "I bet she does. But what about you? Clearly you're not against it."

"No your Majesty, I'm not. In fact, it find it rather enjoyable when done properly."

"Please, call me Alistair. Your Majesty is so formal."

She smiled shyly, her blush growing. "As you wish…Alistair."

A bark sounded in the distance, signalling a mabari had found something. They chased after the sound, Eleanor glad for the distraction. Maybe she would stop blushing if she killed a deer.

As it turned out, she did. She aimed her crossbow, the bolt making its mark, the deer killed in one hit. She dismounted her horse to inspect her kill, Alistair watching on impressed. It made a change to see a woman who could handle herself and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

She turned and smiled at the King – _Alistair_, glad that her shot had been so good, smug when she saw the appreciative look on his face. He noticed she was staring at him and blushed slightly. She giggled, hiding behind her hand to try and mask her amusement. _He was staring at me. At _me_. Maker, what if he likes me? _

_Andraste's arse Eleanor, listen to yourself! Since when were you a simpering little girl?_

_Since the King of Ferelden, a young, attractive man, took an interest in me, that's when. Have you seen him?! Talk about hot! _

She shook her head to clear her mind, and mounted her horse, gesturing for him to lead the way again. They rode together again, her confidence a little bolder now. "If you like Alistair," said Eleanor, "I'll let you kill the next animal we find. You know, since I beat you to the last one." She smirked at him wickedly, forgetting for a moment that this man was the King. She felt so at ease with him, like she'd known him for years.

Apparently Alistair's skill with a crossbow was somewhat lacking. It took him three attempts to hit the next deer, none of which were accurate enough to down the animal. Deciding to put the creature out of its misery, Eleanor shot it in the throat. It collapsed instantly, its pained cries cut off at last.

The King scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "Yes, well…shall we pretend that that didn't happen?"

"Oh no, that happened," teased Eleanor.

He steered his horse closer to hers. "In my defence, I never claimed to be any good with a crossbow."

"Neither did I," she winked.

Alistair stared at her, his eyes narrowed slightly, surprised that she would so openly challenge him. She was certainly as fiery as her hair, he'd give her that. He wondered what it was really like. Why noble women thought wearing it fancy hairstyles was appealing, he'd never know.

As if she could read his mind, Eleanor began fussing with her hair, tugging at the plaited bun pinned up on her head. She growled in frustration, sighing when her efforts did nothing to ease the incessant itching.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"It's these blighted pins! Maker, I hate these things!" She ripped the pins out of her hair, undoing the plait and running her fingers through her hair to comb it. She sighed in relief, glad to let her hair down. She heard a stifled laugh come from next to her, followed by a bout of fake coughing. Eleanor glared at the King. He bit down on his knuckles, trying not to burst out laughing, but it did little to help and soon he was laughing at her again, earning him further frown.

Eleanor clicked and told her horse to walk on, deciding it was best not to attack the King, lest she get executed for it. She heard hooves following behind her. "I'm sorry Eleanor. I shouldn't have laughed. It's just…" She whipped her head around to stare at him, making him pause briefly. "Are you always like this?"

She glared at him in silence, biting her tongue. _Don't do it Eleanor. Don't shout at him. Just keep your hands on the reigns and your mouth shut. _

"You're a peculiar woman you know.

"So I've been told by _many_ people, though you're first the King. And the first ginger actually," she retorted, cursing mentally. _Damn my tongue. Father always said it would land me in trouble._

"Hey, I resent that comment. I'm _strawberry blonde, _not ginger." Eleanor scoffed, not buying his claim. He was ginger, like her, whether he liked it or not. The only difference was, she was more obviously ginger. "Are you always this frank with people?"

"Only with people I like. Or don't like. You know what, yes I guess I am always this frank, but that's just what I'm like."

Alistair smirked, "Does that mean you like me then?" He laughed when she blushed, embarrassed that he'd picked up on _that_ of all things. "I'll take that as yes, shall I?"

Eleanor shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the seemingly permanent blush on her cheeks. "Nonsense," she said, her composed returned. "I only like men who can handle a weapon, and after that _shoddy_ display with the crossbow, well, I don't know if I could _ever_ like you."

The King placed hand over his heart, feigning injury. "I may be shoddy with a crossbow, but that does not mean I cannot handle a weapon." A determined look crossed his face and hardened his eyes. He jumped down from his horse and drew his blade. Eleanor looked at him in confusion. "Come on," he said loudly. "Let's see how good you are."

Eleanor remained on her horse, torn. The King wanted to spar with her. She didn't know what to do. On one hand she was thrilled by the opportunity, eager to prove herself to him. On the other hand, she didn't want to make a fool of herself. She'd seen him fight in person and she had to admit, he was good. _But how good…? I guess there's only one way to find out._

Determined not to back down from his challenge, she dismounted from her horse and strode over to him, drawing her swords as she walked. She twirled them in her hands, excited to duel the man. _Don't cock this up Eleanor. Your pride is at stake here._

* * *

She awoke with a start, her surroundings surprising her. She was in bed again, skin stuck to the sheets, covers wrapped loosely around her. Eleanor noticed a weight on the bed next to her and turned her head to see what it was. _Alistair_. He was fast asleep, his arm draped loosely over her torso. She tried to sit up, but found it nigh on impossible, the lack of muscle strength in her arms making it difficult to support own weight. A set of hands helped her up then plumped her pillows, letting her sit up. She thanked whoever had helped her and asked how in Andraste's name someone had gotten Alistair to sleep.

"We finally managed to convince him to get some sleep," said Zevran. So it had been his hands then that had helped her. "Although, we did have to use sleeping draughts and spells a few times as well. You are both incredibly stubborn people, you know that?"

Eleanor looked at her sleeping husband and stroked his hair absentmindedly. Even in sleep his face was furrowed with worry. "How long was it this time," she asked quietly, accepting a glass of water from the elf.

"Twelve days. It's pretty much certain now that they're getting longer by a day each time." He retrieved a tray from beside the bed and placed it on her lap. She knew the drill: fill up on food, not too fast though, and try and regain as much of her lost weight as possible. She began picking at the food whilst Zevran spoke. "Nina is looking for another healer. She says we'll have to get the baby out soon, otherwise you'll lose it, but she wants another healer here for extra security."

Eleanor set down her food, "That seems wise. I'd recommend a few, but the only two healers I've ever known are either dead or a wanted killer. Shame Anders went crazy. He used to be really funny, and a brilliant healer too." She returned to her food, the empty space in her stomach painful.

"She's worried about you falling into another coma as well. Given how close you are to your due date, one more coma could…you know."

"Kill me," she said flatly. "I know." She looked over to her sleeping husband and frowned. "Does he know?" she asked.

Zevran shook his head. "I think he's in denial."

Eleanor nodded. That made sense. She would refuse to accept his death as fact as well. They _had_ to hope. Without hope, everything was lost for certain. Without hope, she and here baby would die.


	19. Chapter 19

_**I think I'm gonna be wrapping this story up in these next few chapters. But never fear, my creative muse never lets my imagination sleep for long, so there will be plenty more pieces uploaded still (I hope). I have a few other pieces on the go at the moment, including another Amell/Cullen one-shot, which may - fingers crossed - lead to another longer story, as well as my first Hawke fanfic (though that's taking a little longer than normal to write). I'd love it if you gave some of my other stuff a read (if you haven't already that is) and I would also appreciate the odd review too. Thanks :)**_

* * *

Eleanor stared sadly at her stomach, stroking the swollen bulge with her bony hand. She sighed, "I'm sorry baby. We've had none of the happy moments we were supposed to, and things are only going to get worse I'm afraid. I'm so sorry baby. I only want the best for you, and I haven't given you that yet." She felt a kick and smiled. "Okay, okay, so we've had a few I suppose, but not nearly enough. Your father is worried sick and we may both die if I fall asleep again." She sighed once more, letting her head rest against the headboard. "So much for a perfect pregnancy."

"Since when do we do perfect love?" joked a sleepy voice.

Eleanor sat back up and smiled at her husband. "Oh, _now_ you wake up. Here, I wanna show you something." She took his hand in hers and placed it on her stomach, ignoring the pained look on his face when he saw how thin she was. Right on cue, the baby kicked again, the pain on Alistair's face replaced by a broad grin that made his eyes crinkle. "I think sometimes we forget why we're doing all this." Another kick, his smile grew, "_This_ is why Alistair. Not for you, not for me, but for him…her? I don't know. We'll find out soon enough I guess."

A quiet knock interrupted them, the door opening automatically. "Oh good, you're both awake. This makes my life a little easier." Nina stepped into the room with Zevran in tow. "I want to move Eleanor to a different room for the birth, which will be much easier with you both awake." Zevran moved to Eleanor's side, ready to help move her.

"Wait, wait," she held her hands out in protest. "You're gonna move me, just like that? But…that bed will be clean. I'm not. Can't I at least have a _bath_ first? Please." The men rolled their eyes dramatically. Nina opened her mouth to protest, but the look on the Queen's face made her close it again. She caved and nodded her approval, telling the men to help her into the bathroom, then once she was done, carry her down the hall. She could sympathise with the woman. Being stuck in a bed for days on end was bad enough, but to lose your creature comforts as well, it was kind of depressing.

Eleanor thanked her then, stubborn as ever, tried to sit up, despite both men offering to help her. She didn't get very far, her lack of muscle making it impossible to push herself up. Alistair rushed to help her, offering to pick her up. She protested, but was picked up regardless, being overruled on the matter by everyone else in the room.

He picked her up carefully, cradling her in his arms like an infant. "I am a grown woman Alistair. Put me down," she hit his chest weakly, making her displeasure known to him.

"Maybe, but you're also a very weak grown woman right now. So I'm helping you."

"Helping me my – " Her protests cut off suddenly.

Alistair looked down at her worriedly, "Eleanor?" He stopped in his tracks, halfway to the bathroom, and shook her gently. No response. She lay limp in his arms, her head slumped against her chest. "_Nina_! Something's wrong!" He ran back into the bedroom, Nina rushing to meet him.

After one look at the Queen she said, "Quick, follow me. We need to do this now or you'll lose them both."

* * *

Alistair was definitely capable with a sword, that much was certain. A few times he had gotten close to beating her, something few men could do, but each time she fought back, determined to keep going.

She looked beautiful, her fiery hair billowing when she spun and twirled, highlighting the determined look in her eyes. It was hard not to get distracted by her, but he would not let a woman beat him. _There's worse women to get beaten by. _

A few times he thought he had her, but each time she came back with renewed determination. He was impressed. But he was built for endurance. She was not. This is what he did. He stayed strong while his opponent tired themselves out. And that is exactly what was happening. Her strikes were becoming gradually weaker, less precise. He began steering her towards a tree, backing her into a corner. She seemed oblivious to the fact as she let herself be corralled. Soon enough, her back was against the tree, his sword at her throat, his face inches away from hers.

"I guess this clarifies the question of whether or not I like you, doesn't it?" joked Eleanor breathlessly. Maker, he was so close to her, his lips only inches away from hers, if that. She could feel the heat radiating from him. She hoped her humour masked her nerves.

"So she finally admits it." Alistair removed his blade from her throat, but stayed where he was, his arms pinning her in place. "You are a unique woman Eleanor. Beautiful, feisty, courageous…How has no one snapped you up yet?"

She bit her lip, "Because I speak my mind. And because I know more about blades than the average nobleman does."

"But I'm not your average nobleman," he inched closer to her.

"No, you're not," she breathed.

_Eleanor stay with me!_

Before his lips could touch hers, a deafening roar shook the entire forest. They covered their ears, wondering what in Andraste's name was going on. An ominous shadow enveloped them in darkness. They looked up, their mouths agape.

"It's…a _dragon_!" The warriors retrieved their swords, unsure of what else to do.

_Don't you dare die on me! _

"Quick! Move!" shouted Alistair, trying to drag Eleanor away. But she didn't move. "What are you doing? We need to get out of here!"

Eleanor glared at him, her eyes determined. "No." She refused to back down and give in. She pulled her arm out of his grip and ran at the dragon, ignoring his terrified shouts behind her.

_Stay with me Eleanor!_

I have to fight this thing.

It didn't take long to reach the beast, its size making it easy to find. She dodged its swipes at her, ducking under its legs and claws, slashing at its limbs whenever she could land a hit. Her attacks did little to slow the dragon, which had set its eyes on the King. _Alistair. _

Panic set in. _No, leave him alone. _She attacked its legs again, trying to draw its attention away from him, but it carried on relentlessly. _Right bitch, maybe _this_ will get your attention. _She swung her swords down on its tail, chopping off the end of it. The dragon roared her displeasure, swinging around to scorch her attacker. Acting on instinct, Eleanor ran under the dragon's torso, slicing at its belly as she went. It tried to pick her up in its powerful jaws, but she slashed at it again, making it reel back. It screeched in pain, the noise ear-splitting.

_Don't you dare give up Eleanor! Not now!_

Everything was pain. So much pain, so much blood. And she had no idea how she had gotten there.

"Oh thank the Maker!"

She could still hear a pained screech deafen her.

"Quick! Get to work!"

The pain increased and she screamed. Her stomach left like it had been ripped open. She looked around and found herself laid on a bloody bed, surrounded by people and noise. Pain shot through her stomach again. An unknown mage was working relentlessly over her, mumbling spells under his breath.

Despite the pain, one thought wormed its way to the forefront of her mind, putting together the scene in front of her: my baby.

Ignoring the mage and the pain, she sat upright, "_My baby! Where is my baby?!"_ She thrashed against the hands trying to pull her back down on to the bed. "_What's happened to my baby?! Where is my baby?!"_

A wave of blissful quiet hit her. _Sorry lelthallan…_

* * *

She awoke feeling sore and beaten. _Maker that was a weird dream. _She heard a relieved sigh next to her and turned as best as she could to look at who was with her. "Alistair," she croaked happily.

Her husband grinned back at her, tears liberally running down his cheeks. "Thank the Maker. I was so worried love." He turned his grin to a bundle in his arms, "We both were."

She looked at him puzzled, wondering what was in his arms. _We both were? __Who…? _Her eyes shot wide open. "The baby – "

"Is a healthy baby boy." Alistair grinned at his wife, happy as Larry that despite it nearly turning out differently, both his wife and son were alive. It had been close, both Nina and the other healer working relentlessly to save her once Nina cut the baby out. He had spent hours afterwards crying over his newborn son, unsure if his wife would wake up, if he would have to raise his newborn son all alone. He shook away the memories, glad that she was awake. "Would you like to meet him?"

Eleanor smiled at him, "Of course I would." Ignoring the pain coursing through her entire body, she sat up, eager to meet her baby. Alistair passed their baby to her, who began crying at being moved. She shushed and cooed him, "It's ok baby, I'm here. It's ok."

Maker he was so beautiful. And _tiny_. A pang of guilt shot through her heart, knowing it was a result of her comas. She took his tiny hand in hers, his little fingers wrapping around her finger instinctively.

"You were right," said Alistair, reaching out and stroking his son's head tenderly. "He did turn out ginger," he laughed.

Eleanor looked at his tiny head covered in a smattering of bright red hair, her hand absentmindedly stroking the downy curls. A set of tired eyes opened and looked up at her. She blinked a few times, checking she wasn't seeing things. "Alistair…?"

"I know. He's…certainly different." He watched her carefully, waiting to see how she reacted.

"I suppose," she said, her eyes not leaving her son's. "But I just think it makes him even more beautiful, even if he will stand out a little. It's not like he was ever going to be normal anyway. I mean, come on. He's the child of two Grey Warden's, both of whom are also the rulers of Ferelden."

Alistair laughed, "Well when you put it like that…"

He looked down at his son, only able to see one side of him fully, his child's head resting against his wife's breast._ Funny, _he thought, _from here he looks perfectly normal. _The child turned to look at him. It was weird; it was like he looking at himself and his wife all at once. But it wasn't how normal parents saw themselves in their child. One side was like looking in a mirror, his brown eyes staring at brown; the other side was like looking at his wife, brown staring at green.

"Knock knock. Mind if we come in?" Zevran and Teagan stood patiently in the doorway, Katia in Zevran's arms, waiting to be let in.

An exasperated sigh came from behind them, "Out of my way please gentleman." Nina pushed past them, anxious to check on Eleanor, the two men following her into the room. She quickly began running her hands over the woman, checking her vitals and sending healing magic into her body. Eleanor sighed and visibly relaxed, the aching in her limbs and torso now a mere annoying pain rather than a persistent throbbing that tugged at her insides.

"I have to say, I'm confused." The magic in her hands faded, "This morning you were on death's door, yet now you're fine. You're still rather thin, but that can be fixed with time." She scratched her head, "I'm not saying it's a bad thing, far from it, I just…don't understand."

Alistair laughed, "Maker, alert the Chantry! The all-knowing elf doesn't know what's going on for once."

Nina frowned at him, unamused by his joke. "I just like to know what's going on Alistair, especially when it's in regards to someone's life." His smile sobered and he muttered a quiet apology to the elf, which she accepted with a nod.

"Yes well, how about we just enjoy the fact that for the first time in months things seem to be fine?" said Eleanor, breaking the awkward atmosphere in the room.

There was a unanimous murmur of agreement, followed by Teagan saying, "Well come on, let me see my grandnephew." They all gathered around the bed then, cooing over the newborn, commenting on how much he looked like his parents, how adorably cute he was, how happy Eleanor and Alistair seemed. After a while, Katia decided she wanted to meet the young prince properly, so made her father set her down on the bed and crawled up to meet him. She stared at him, confused by his strange eyes and his round ears. Alistair picked her up and set her on his lap, ignoring her protests.

"Katia, if you stop fidgeting I'll introduced you properly," he joked. The little elf stopping fidgeting. Alistair looked over to his wife. Her lips turned up in a smile and she nodded. He smiled back, "Katia, everyone, we'd like you to meet Duncan."


End file.
